The Strange
by manicDROID
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter is attending Hogwarts as a 7th yr Slytherin. Voldemort has given her and Draco Malfoy an assignment: together, they are to bring down the Side of the Light in the Final Battle. Developed, tenacious, ravishing, and smutty.
1. Sleight of Hand

"Draco," a sly female voice spoke his name, "I would say I am surprised to find you here," she drawled apathetically, "But I'm not." Her tan slender figure was wrapped tightly in a full-length trench coat made of black dragon skin. She had the collar popped up around her neck so it covered her bare neck where her straight jaw-length black hair failed to. "Care to tell me what you're up to this time?" she peered with a bright green gaze around the corner of the stone building and saw the girl Draco's eyes were fixed on.

"Nothing, just following that girl, the one in the blue sweatshirt," his stone grey eyes trailed her every movement like a cat watching a bird from behind long grass. Draco was a tall seventh-year Slytherin boy with silky platinum hair and chiseled features on a lean, muscular body. It was unusual for him to behave this way for a girl considering he could have any girl he wanted.

"Merlin's beard, Draco," the green-eyed girl said with what was almost a tone of disgust in her voice, "If you fancy her so much just ask her out, don't stalk her." The girl they were watching was sitting on a bench on the other side of the street drawing designs in the snow with her sneakered feet. She was wearing light blue jeans and a dark blue hooded sweatshirt. Her long wavy chestnut hair matched her deep brown eyes as she glanced up and down the deserted street. She appeared to be waiting for something. "Who is she?" the other girl asked, trying to sound like she didn't really want to know.

"Her name is Rosemary," he answered in a sort of dazed dreamy way.

The girl's jaw went slightly slack before she sneered at him unkindly, "Rosemary? As in the herb, rosemary?" She gave a sort of unsympathetic chuckle, "I can't wait to see the look on Lucius' face when you stroll into his manor with that shoddy creature on your arm," her pouty lips formed a tiny smirk that accentuated the malice in her jealous eyes.

"I wouldn't bring her anywhere near father. I just want to play with her a bit, you know, have some fun," he smirked cruelly as he thought of the things he'd like to do to the poor unsuspecting girl.

"Whatever you want Draco. Just don't get too close," she muttered as she turned to leave, "You're father wouldn't approve."

Before she could take two steps he had grabbed her upper arm and swung her back around to face him, pinning her gently against the stone wall of the building, "If I were you I wouldn't worry that ever-scheming mind of yours, pet. You'll always be my favorite," he smirked at her.

"How dare you taunt me Draco Malfoy," she growled, careful to keep her temper cool, "You know very well that I don't seek your affections." She tried to yank her arm from his grip but his hands gave no room for her to struggle, pointless like a kitten trying to free herself from a chain.

"Is that all the fight you've got in you, Lestrange? C'mon, make your dead father proud," he whispered in her ear sadistically.

As if he had never made the last statement, she glanced over his shoulder suddenly and made a tsk sound, "Looks as if Parsley is on the move." He released her to glance around the corner of the building only to find that Rosemary hadn't moved from the bench and was now gazing skyward into the falling snow. When he turned back around he found her wand aimed steadily between his legs, slightly lifting the material at the crotch of his pants. "Sleight of mind will always be stronger than sleight of hand, Draco," she tucked her wand back into a pocket on the inside of her leather coat before walking away from him, "See you in school, Draco."

He was leaning against the wall, fuming over how he let her get the best of him, this time. It wouldn't happen again, "Take care, Flay." He watched the blackness of her coat be enveloped by the darkness of the alley, and with that, she was gone.


	2. Passing Thoughts

[POV: Flay Lestrange (It is past midnight and Flay is lying down along the length of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. She stares up at the bewitched ceiling as her mind wanders.)]

Everyone is already asleep. Why can't I sleep? This silence is so perfect; eerie and peaceful at the same time. I wonder what Mother's doing now. Probably not sleeping, she used to stay up at all hours of the night even before she went to Azkaban. I could go find her through the fireplace, but I don't really want to see Mother right now. She wouldn't have anything new to say other than nagging about her Lord and his plan. Like I wanted to hear that shit again! If I have to hear her complain one more time about how important it is for me not to fuck this up, I think I'll just kill everyone.

What if I were to turn into a loose cannon? What would happen if I just went to every dormitory in this school and quietly murdered each student in their own beds? I'd also kill the professors and the rest of the staff. Dumbledore would be out of the question, if anything I'd do him in first. Merlin knows I don't want him poking his pointed old nose in when I'm trying to destroy the whole community of Hogwarts. I'd stop every last one of them dead in their tracks and I wouldn't tell a soul. Somebody would find out eventually. They might notice strange behavior with the owls since no one would be here to reply to their letters. Eventually it would come out that Hogwarts had been annihilated, but I would be long gone and no one would know where I am, let alone know that I was the one to do it. Then the question would become one of, can I kill them all in one night? Yeah, that shouldn't be an issue. I'd have to be completely silent though. If even one student woke up and someone got away, there's the possibility that I would have to battle a group of professors. I'd just have to kill them first, well after Dumbledore anyway.

None of that matters though because that's not my mission. That's not what I'm here for. That would just be overkill, no pun intended. I wonder how Karkaroff was doing. I owed my practical schooling in magic to him. It was the Headmaster of Durmstrang, a man who owed Mother a favor, who made it possible for me to attend a wizarding school. Mother had been locked away when I was still very young so he took me in and gave me home, it was he that persuaded Madame Maxine to allow me to attend Beauxbatons under the false name of Flay Black, and it was he that spoke with Dumbledore when it was time for me to transfer to Hogwarts for my seventh year. Ever since I had become an official Hogwarts student at the end of my sixth year, I was offered a place to stay at the Malfoy Manor. Mother, Igor Karkaroff, and Lucius Malfoy were all good friends and somehow or another owed each other favors, death eaters could be terribly vague when it came to explanations. So I stayed with the Malfoys all summer and I can imagine I'll be going back for winter break if the offer is still open.

Until then I just have to get used to this school. There's a certain air of loneliness around here that I can't seem to get past. It's nothing like the loneliness I felt at Beauxbatons though, this kind of loneliness I can overcome. While Karkaroff and Maxine have academies where the students are all carbon copies of each other, the students at Hogwarts are much more diverse. I don't much resemble the veela image, so fitting in at Beauxbatons was impossible. I'd always stick out with my black hair, black heart, and black soul. Their saccharine attitudes didn't bother me though. I kept to myself and learned everything I could. I had to become the best witch I could possibly be if Voldemort was to use me at Hogwarts. Like Mother, I am a brilliant student. I would have been a decent witch even if I hadn't put much effort into my studies, but magic comes naturally to me; I was a registered animagus at the tender age of twelve. I read volumes upon volumes of book on charms, incantations, potions, and the dark arts on my breaks. Even though magic was prohibited outside the walls of any school since I was underage, that didn't matter to me. I spent my summers and winters at Durmstrang so I was free to practice all the magic I could conjure. During my winter breaks I also picked up a few pointers from some of Karkaroff's best students. Viktor Krum, as daft as the boy may be academically, was still excellent in other areas of physical exertion, and I'm not talking Quidditch.

[POV: Draco Malfoy (He has just awoken from his sleep and finds himself incapable of dozing off again. After creeping into the girls' dormitory to find Flay missing from her bed, he wanders off to find her.)]

If I were a tamed sociopath, where would I be? All the halls are empty, although I guess I don't really expect anyone to be up. It's only the first night so the professors probably don't think they have to deal with late night wanderers yet. Why isn't that saucy bitch where she's supposed to be when I need her? What am I saying? I don't need her. Though, I did wake up and go looking for her but she wasn't in her bed. Why was I even looking for her? She might be lost but I don't really care about that. She'd find her way eventually. Chances were she probably knew exactly where she was, she just couldn't sleep. At least I'm not the only sleepless one tonight.

The tip of my wand glowed just bright enough so I could see about two meters in front of me. My aimless roaming of the castle led me out of the dungeons and into several classrooms. I also passed by the library but she wasn't there either. This time I consciously walked to the Great Hall. I could get a snack before going to bed. If she was nowhere to be found that obviously meant she didn't want to be found. "Nox," I whisper to halt the glow of my wand, and then I soundlessly push the doors of the Great Hall open and slide them closed behind me. I'm not even surprised to see a small black figure lying across the Slytherin table. I'm more surprised to see she had yet to notice me. I'm only wearing a thin pair of black socks on my feet so I pad over to her silently. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is very even, as if she is asleep. But then she opens her vibrant green eyes and instantly makes eye contact with me like she knew I was there the whole time. "Go to bed, woman. What if you fell asleep here? All of Hogwarts would come to breakfast tomorrow morning with you sleeping on the table." Her usually piercing gaze is heavy lidded and less intimidating than normal.

"I can't sleep," she whispered as she let her eyes drift back up to the cloudy ceiling. I can tell she was thinking about something important before I had arrived.

"You're pouting over the matter much too hard," I mumble quietly. I'm somewhat tired from my walk around the endless castle. I don't even want a pumpkin pasty anymore.

"It was just a passing thought really," she answers back. That's unsettling. I sit down at the table she is lying on at about the height of her head. Her neatly groomed hair looks bed-tossed and is splayed messily around her head. I don't even try to stop myself from picking up one short pieces of hair and twisting it around my finger. She closes her eyes serenely and the deep frown on her face lessened. It must be a subliminally soothing action she is unaware of.

"Come on, let's go to bed," I stood up and encouraged to her to do the same, "It was nearly half past two when I left the dungeon. I can only imagine how late it's gotten now." She nodded in agreement but didn't offer any words. We ended up walking back to the dormitories in silence. I didn't mind though, we were both too tired for any meaningful conversation and meaningless conversation wasn't worth the effort. But I find that the silent moments between us are more comfortable than awkward, so I enjoy them more than I avoid them. I whispered the password to the portrait at the archway of the dungeon and the door swung open, creaking with age. A green fire was burning in the fireplace and no one was awake but us two. I could hear Crabbe and Goyle's snoring echoing off the tone walls from the boys' dormitory into the common room. "Good night," I muttered, eager to crawl back into bed and dreading waking up tomorrow morning. The clock above the fire said it was almost three thirty.

"Good night," she muttered back. I watched her walk gracefully up the stairs to the girls' dormitory and cast me a sideways glance with those captivating feline eyes before disappearing behind a dark green curtain with the Slytherin emblem on it. I'd be lying if I said I sympathized with her insomnia. Even while she was at the Manor over the summer she didn't sleep much, always awake at odd hours of the night. Of course, I only knew this because I was too. But tonight she hadn't been in the library reading or somewhere practicing spells. She had been thinking. I've never seen her sitting absently and just thinking. If I were her I probably wouldn't be thinking too hard about anything in particular either. Grim thoughts could only fill her troubled mind. It was almost a shame to see such a beautiful girl with so much potential go to waste as just another tool in Voldemort's collection. I'm not sure, but maybe it makes her all the more attractive. Although I've never seen her happy, I like seeing her in pain.


	3. Human Transfiguration

"Draco!" a petulant female voice cried from behind him. He turned in the crowded hallway to see the girl who had called his name was none other than Pansy Parkinson, a frivolous Slytherin student of his year with straight dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a small upturned nose. She was struggling to get past the reverse flow of second year students who had just finished class and were heading to lunch. She had missed him on the train and was eager to spend time with him after a whole summer apart with very few letters. When Draco stopped the girl next to him also stopped. Pansy had not realized they were walking together until the girl whispered something to Draco which she couldn't hear.

"Who is this?" Flay whispered questioningly among the loud banter of the excited student. She recognized the uncertain look in the girl's eyes and scoffed under her breath at the tall blonde boy, "Not another one." If it were not for her incredible self restraint she would have rolled her eyes and left without another word. Instead she stood confidently next to Draco and waited for the girl to make it past the sea of students.

"Hi Draco," she said breathlessly, "How are you? How was your summer?" she asked with what Flay thought was too much interest. Surely Draco would see that this girl no longer posed a challenge for him and move on quite quickly.

"Hello Pansy. Flay, this is Pansy Parkinson, my girlfriend," announced, making the girl glow with pride from being chosen over the exceptionally pretty girl. "Pansy, this is my cousin, Flay Black," he introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Pansy said enthusiastically. She would have to be sure to be on good terms with this extension of Draco's family if she wanted Draco to keep seeing her. To her dismay, Flay merely nodded once to acknowledge her. Pansy panicked and gave her best smile, "Draco's told me so much about you. It's really great to finally meet you," but this was not true. Draco had hardly spoken to her over the summer and had not informed anyone of his cousin's arrival at Hogwarts. Flay raised one eyebrow questioningly, immediately sensing the falsity of this statement and disliking the nervous girl. Pansy turned back to Draco, whose face was emotionless and grey eyes hard as stone, "What class are you going to now? I just came from charms and I have potions in ten minutes."

Draco was let down by the hopeful tone of her voice, having thought that she would leave immediately after the embarrassment of the gaffe she had just endured, "We have transfiguration." He paused as he saw a flash of green out of the corner of his eye which was Flay casting him a side glance of disapproval. He should not have to suffer her disapproval for something that was out of his control. "I'll walk you to class and you can tell me about your summer in Thailand," he said in a much kinder tone. He turned to Flay to tell her he would meet up with her in class, knowing it would infuriate her but that she would never show that to him, but she had already turned and walked away, lost in the halls even as the crowd began to thin.

"Oh," said a Gryffindor boy with messy dark brown hair and starling green eyes behind round wire-framed glasses, "I'm sorry." He apologized for carelessly bumping into her as he rounded the corner and knocked her transfiguration and charms textbook out of her thin arms.

"Open your eyes," she said caustically as the boy knelt to pick up her fallen books.

Just as he was about to hand them back to her he got a better look at her face and decided to keep them, "I could walk you to class," he suggested, "I mean, I saw you in charms already today, we have that class together, and if you're going to transfiguration then I am too so if you want," he trailed off unsteadily after having slightly stumbled over his words.

"I wouldn't mind," she said after a moment's pause.

"Really?" he said quickly. She could not help but give a small smile at how cheerful accepting his offer had made him, "Well that's great! We should go or we'll be late. I'm-" he was about to introduce himself but she stopped him.

"Harry Potter," she glanced at him but he did not seem surprised. What student did not know who he was? He was famous. "Pleased to meet you Harry," she said tonelessly, "I'm Flay Black."

"The pleasure is mine," he glanced at her to see her face again. She had high cheek bones, a slightly pointed chin, and strong eyebrows that defined rounded eyes, features of a face he felt he should recognize from somewhere. "Erm, I'm sorry, but are you related to Sirius Black by any chance?" he asked hesitantly. He did not want to start things off in the wrong direction since most wizards would take offense at the thought of being related to the presumed murderer, but he just had to ask.

He could not see the smile that had crept onto her face because it was barely there, "Don't worry, it's no insult to me, but no, I'm not related to him. Black is a very common surname. I assure you it is coincidence that we may share it," she answered, graciously deflecting any ill remark he had expected from her. "Although I must say it is quite an honor to share the name of such a renowned figure in our society," she added manipulatively. She knew Sirius was Harry's godfather and was aware of the emotional tie he still held for the deceased man, her second degree cousin. They had reached the classroom, "Thank you, Harry," she said enchantingly before he opened the door for her. She went to sit with the other Slytherins in her class and he went to the Gryffindor's side of the room.

Draco saw her enter the class with Harry and glared hatefully as the Gryffindor cast one more look at the girl who had unwillingly caught his attention. "Don't go messing with the wrong wizards," he whispered snidely once she was seated next to him at the desk. Harry must have felt Draco's eyes on him because he turned unconsciously and made immediate eye contact with the Slytherin. Draco smirked and leaned in closer to Flay, making it look like he was saying something intimate to her, "Wouldn't want my father to disapprove," but it was really just a mocking threat.

"Quiet class," Professor McGonagall emerged from behind a small pile of books on her desk, "Today we'll be practicing a spell that turns humans into animals. This said, you'll be working in pairs so find someone you'd like to practice magic on and who will forgive if your spell goes awry," she gave a meaningful glance at Seamus Finnegan sitting next to Lavender Brown, whose jaw dropped slightly as everyone else scooted a little farther away on their benches. "Mr. McLaggen," the boy who had just been flirting with the two girls sitting next to him looked up at his professor questioningly, "Allow me to use you as an example for today's lesson." He took a deep breath and stood in front of the class with Professor McGonagall. "Now, all you have to do is picture the animal you want your partner to become," she paused as she thought for a moment, "and say, now say this very clearly, no mumbling, _bestiatus_!" As soon as the word left her mouth, Cormac McLaggen sank to the floor and transformed into a small round pink pig. "Ladies and gentlemen, the true form of Mr. McLaggen," the students chortled amongst themselves before McGonagall continued talking. "To transform them back to their original form, all you have to do is say _umanos_!" Cormac quickly took human form and did not wait for McGonagall to tell him he could be seated. "There are no restrictions to this spell; however, there will be in my class today. Some transfigurations can be more painful than others, and to make that your partner doesn't have to be rushed to the hospital wing please restrict your choices to animals with backbones. Go on. Pair up and don't forget to speak clearly!" The students were quick to find partners but hesitant to transform one another.

"Stand up straight Black," he hissed her fake last name like a curse, "I want a clear-" but before he could finish she had already pointed her wand at him.

"_Bestiatus_," she muttered softly. This was not the first time she attempted the spell. In fact, she was well accustomed to it. All the students were busy deciding what animal they wanted to be transformed into. No one but McGonagall noticed when Draco Malfoy sunk to the ground and took the shape of a boomslang, a brilliant green snake whose skin is an ingredient in polyjuice potions. This had drawn the attention of a few students who gasped their disbelief. "How does it feel to take your true form Malfoy?" McGonagall did not have a chance to say anything as Flay whispered the counter incantation and within seconds the boy say dazed on the floor. "Draco," Flay said with painfully obvious false concern, "How ever did you end up there?" She smirked as he got to his feet, shaking the feeling back into his hands after not having had limbs.

"_Bestiatus_," he yelled back angrily at her. She let out a small cry as her wand flew from her hand and the cry became a roar. A large black jaguar with deadly green eyes was crouching dangerously on the ground in front of him, "How's that for true form," he hissed under his breath. McGonagall's jaw dropped as the giant cat leaped at Draco who was not registering the repercussions of his actions fast enough.

"_Umanos_!" McGonagall yelled from across the room, her eyes wide like saucers and her wand pointed at the black cat. She transfigured back to her human form in mid jump but could not stop as she flew through the air towards him, her arms and legs stretched out as if she were still a cat with claws and inch-long fangs. Now that she was human Draco could have easily avoided her but chose to stay where he was. He took a step back and she fell directly into his chest as the force of the impact threw them to the ground and they went tumbling until they hit a wall. By this point all the students were watching and had cleared a path for where the two were inevitably going to crash. "Mr. Malfoy! Ms. Black! Come here this instant!" she screeched, her heart beating like a frantic bird in a cage. "Class is dismissed!" The students were frozen in place until she yelled at them again to leave.

"Clumsy bitch, cats are supposed to be graceful," Draco growled as he looked up at the Flay's face, she looked dizzy and hardly weighed anything.

She shook off the feeling as fast as she lifted herself off of the Slytherin seeker's excellently toned body, "Do I look like a cat?" she growled back, equally as unhappy.

"Why would you jump at me?" he said with more force as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"Why would you turn me into," she paused, struggling to find a word but failing, "that!" The heat of her anger was enough to set his robes on fire.

"You turned me into a snake without warning!" he hissed back at her, straightening out his platinum hair.

Before they could continue bickering, McGonagall interrupted them. "Ms. Black, do you have any idea of the injuries you could have caused Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asked fretfully.

"Yes," Flay answered calmly, "Nothing he didn't deserve though, nothing Madame Pomfrey can't heal," she added, still seething.

McGonagall's eyes were still wide but she turned to Draco, "What possessed you to do such a thing Mr. Malfoy," she asked with a slight hint of dread in her voice. If Flay's answer had been so hateful and uninterested, she could only imagine Draco's.

"You see, big black cats are somewhat reminiscent for Flay," he smirked at the girl's sharp intake of breath, "I thought it might be funny." Suddenly Draco flew backwards into a desk, a sickening crack echoed in the room. When Draco stood back up his nose had a small trickle of blood oozing down into his mouth and he looked as if he was going to strangle Flay.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said softly to get his attention. As soon as he was looking at her she said, "_Episkey_." His broken nose snapped back into place but not without a painful grunt on his part. "You two have obviously mastered the human transfiguration spell. I'm assigning you detention for the next two weeks in the time in which you have my class. I believe that would be Tuesdays and Thursdays from one to two thirty?"

"And where will we be serving detention Professor?" Draco asked with fake enthusiasm.

"The Dark Forest, you are dismissed."


	4. Punishment

Thursday came quickly, as did the rain. Dark clouds covered the midday sun as two cloaked students made their way down to the small cabin bordering the dark forest. The taller student knocked twice on the heavy wooden door and stepped back next to the other student. A man the size of a small giant swung the door open as if it was as light as a feather. "Oh! You're here already, are you?" he said in a booming voice. Hagrid stepped out of his cabin along with his dog, Fang, and brought an oversized crossbow with him. "Today we might not have to do much. We'll pair up, you two will go off to the right I'll take care of the left side with Fang," he started walking towards the edge of the forest. "The centaurs told me there's something new in the forest, something that isn't playing nicely with the other creatures. He was a bit vague about it when I asked, but Firenze said that there was a shadow stalking the ground and that he and the others have seen it take down creatures not much smaller than the centaurs themselves," Hagrid explained as they walked deeper into the forest. The students did not say a word as Hagrid veered off to the left and they followed suit to the right. "Don't forget," he called back at them, "Green sparks if you find something, red sparks if you're in danger," and with that he was gone.

Draco glanced back and could no longer see the game keeper. He grabbed Flay's upper arms and flung her around so her back was against a tree. He put his mouth to her ear so no other creatures wandering the forest at this hour would hear him. "Are you mad?" he hissed under his breath, "What would make you start hunting in the Dark Forest? What if something hurt you? How would you explain yourself? Or worse, what if you were caught and turned in? It would ruin everything, Flay! All our efforts to set this up will have gone to waste! And why? Because you can't control yourself!" his breathing was labored as he paused, "What if something killed you?"

"Draco," she started quietly but stopped when he increased the pressure on her shoulder. He squeezing her but she did not know why for sure because she could not see his face as it was tucked away by her ear.

He pulled back and she saw the seething glare on his face. Before she could register what was happening, he had swung his hand up and slapped her forcefully across the face, snapping her head to the side, "You're too careless, Lestrange," he spat at her. Without letting another moment pass he turned and disappeared into the rainy mist of the Dark Forest.

She let the blood pool on her tongue before spitting it out onto the dirt and leaves. It mixed in with the puddle but any predator in the near area would still smell the tangy iron and try to follow the scent of the wounded animal. She had to keep walking and get out of the area. Finding Draco was not on her current list of priorities. Neither was aimlessly wandering the dangerous forest in a not so dangerous human form. She avoided going back in the direction she had come in case something had caught her smell and followed it. Draco would have to meet up with Hagrid and inform him she was safe, even if he did not know for sure, so they would not be searching the forest for her.

Once she was inside Hogwarts she skipped the Slytherin common room and went straight for the Prefect's bathroom. A long steamy bath was in order after the recent events. It was called the Prefect's bathroom but it was shared among the twenty-four prefects and the eight heads of house. She had easily gained access to the bathroom by overhearing a Huffelpuff prefect about a week ago, but she had never visited the ornate lavatory. She stepped in and was amazed at the swimming pool-like tub with hundreds of spouts to fill it. She turned the knobs for vanilla and mint and the steamy scents of the essential oils began to fill the tiled room. She slipped off her black flats and carefully folded her robe, laying it on a small table under a mosaic window of a mermaid. The sea creature was too busy brushing her hair to notice Flay. Moaning Myrtle, on the other hand, did not miss a beat.

"Oh, look who's come to the Prefect's bathroom," she said woefully, "Someone who's not a prefect!" she screeched as she dove from the ceiling head first into the water without a splash or even moving a bubble. Flay had never met Moaning Myrtle before but now realized she was a ghost and not a poltergeist. The student lowered her wand and placed it on top of her robes. Myrtle poked her head out of the water and leaned on the intricate porcelain that lined the tub, "What are you going to do now? You can't undress or I'll be watching you," she said in a tentative voice. "Guess you'll just have to leave," she suggested idly.

"Don't worry," Flay said, hardly caring that a ghost was watching her undress, "I don't mind." Myrtle stayed silent as the Slytherin girl unbuttoned her black skinny jeans. She reached down by her ankles and pulled them off her lean legs one at a time. She wore silk black panties that only covered a little less than half of each tight cheek and had a small pearl in the middle on the front. She raised her arms and brought her black tank top with them, pulling it up over her hair and mussing up her hair in the meantime. Her bra matched her panties and had the same little pearl right between her lovely b-cup breasts. She reached back and unhooked it, letting slide down her arms before twisting it once and folding it in half, adding it to the small pile of clothes. She hooked her thumbs under the sides of her panties and pulled them down her mid thigh, wiggling out the rest of the way and stacking them at the very top of the pile. She turned around and gave Myrtle a smirk, knowing she had a body the girl could not even wish for in death.

Myrtle screeched at the rude display and flew out of the water as Flay walked to the edge of the tub. "Eight feet deep? This really is a swimming pool," she thought aloud before diving in at the deep end. The sweet yet sharp scent of vanilla mint hit her nose when she sprang out of the water and took a deep breath. It was warm yet fresh in her lungs as she slowly floated herself over to the steps at the shallow end. There it was only four feet deep and she could touch the bottom with no problem. She lay down on the second step so only her bent knees poked out of the water. She arched her back as she took another deep breath and the top her chest began to protrude as well. She lay there as still as death, leisurely balanced on her round bottom with her elbows supporting her on the tile rimming the tub.

She was perfectly relaxed. All thoughts of Draco and her hunting plans gone awry were cast away from her mind as she managed to keep herself very compartmentalized. There was no reason for her to fret over such petty incidents. She would have to change her hunting patterns, this was certain enough. As for Draco, well, he would get his. Was she justified in punching him? No. Was he justified in slapping her? No. Were they even now that they had each stuck each other? Absolutely not. But that was scheming that she could muse over at another time.

She heard the portrait to the bathroom slide closed, someone had just entered. How had she not heard it open or even that the person had stepped inside? Had she been so relaxed that she was almost not in her right mind? Her guard was up as she slipped off the second step and further into the deep end of the bubbles and thick steam. She managed to do so without the slightest splash as she listened to hear who had come in. Who took baths in the middle of the day? She thought she would be the only one here at this time. How long had she been here? She looked at her fingers and saw they were terribly pruned. Maybe she had dozed off for longer than she realized. Losing track of time was easy in such a serene atmosphere.

She heard Moaning Myrtle squeal in excitement, "Look who's come to visit me!" Flay could see the translucent figure swoop down from the ceiling and disappear into the steam at the other end of the bathroom.

"Aren't you in the wrong bathroom, Myrtle?" the voice said harshly. She had heard the voice before but not enough to recognize it. This boy had a deep, muscular tone, and almost an agitated one after having to deal with the bothersome ghost.

"I like to come here instead," Myrtle informed him, "I get many more visitors here. Aren't you in the wrong bathroom?" she asked as if she were incriminating a murder.

"Shut up Myrtle. I'm here so often I might as well be Head Boy," he growled insensitively at the lonely ghost.

"Well aren't you special! Not anymore, little live boy," she whispered just loud enough that Flay could hear her, "Not anymore!" she wailed at the top of her lungs and disappeared to her perch by the window close the ceiling, staring woefully out at the school grounds. "I'll be in the third floor bathroom if you decide I'm better company than her," Myrtle giggled and flew through the ceiling. She had mentioned Flay in a very distasteful tone at the end. She must have aggravated poor Myrtle with her show.

She heard his footsteps as he walked over to the table where all her clothes had been folded properly and heard him touching her things. She wanted to yell at him to stop touching what did not belong to him but held her temper in case she could still slip out of the bathroom unseen. Now he was disrobing and laying his clothes next to hers. She heard his footsteps getting dangerously closer to her. He was about to be right at the tiles where she had dove into the water at and where she was currently clinging to so as not to splash and make noise. Without thinking, she let the air out of her lungs and sunk to the bottom of the eight foot tub.

The boy reached the edge of the tiles and looked around at the tub, the mix of vanilla mint rushing through his nose and causing goose bumps to break out on his skin. He was alone, even though the robes proved otherwise. Her wand was still in the pile so must not have gone far. He sat at the edge of tile, buck naked, and slid in slowly. He ran his hands over his smooth muscles down to his extended manhood. It had almost been a minute but after seeing the blurry outline of a very much male body touching himself so intimately in front of her, she gasped and almost choked herself to death. She resurfaced in a coughing fit trying to get the water out of her lungs. The boy was laughing as he grabbed her shoulder and thumped her on the back a couple times until she was able to breathe again. Gasping, she was finally took a look at the unknown intruder.


	5. Ms Slytherin

Sorry guys, I know it's a short shapter but it's because I cut it off from the end of the last chapter. I wanted to leave you hanging so I stopped mid scene and picked back up here. The next chapter's material wouldn't have really fit well if I had put a break at the end of this chapter and tagged the next chapter on at the end, so I'm just making it all its own chapter... Oh! And to see what the mystery boy looks like do a google search for Alex Pettyfer (this is a search for the actor's name as opposed to a search for the character's name, results show an older more attractive boy, did I mention attractive? *But can he rival the infamous Draco Malfoy? Stay tuned and find out in the next chapter of The Strange!*) Aah! Thanks for having patience with me ^^

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Flay held the on to the tile behind her, floating only a couple feet away from the intruding boy. "Who are you," she asked with the straightest face she could manage after hacking up a lung full of water. She did not know whether to be offensive, if her guest was a welcome one and should she play the sly mink, or if he was in fact unwelcome and she should snap at him before leaving abruptly and, naked?

"Zacharias Smith," he said with a playful lilt in his voice as he floated closer to her one inch at a time, "Captain of the Huffelpuff quidditch team." His shaggy blonde hair and olive green eyes complimented his golden skin quite nicely she noticed. A straight nose and defined jaw brought out his full lips and although separately his features were very strong and hard, the overall tone of his face was somewhat kind and sweet. "Might I ask who I have the pleasure of meeting this evening?" he asked through a small grin.

"No, you may not," she answered fiercely. The boy looked very troublesome and mischievous. She did not need any more complications in her life. He was certainly attractive, she thought, but nothing impressive, not after having dealt with boys like Malfoy and Krum. Although he seemed so much more innocent than the boys she was accustomed to, those two previously mentioned especially!

"Well it seems you are a Slytherin, judging by your robes I saw earlier," he paused, his grin widening, "Might I add, those are a brilliant pair of panties you own, Ms. Slytherin."

"I'm a new student this year," she said, regaining her confidence, "You'll have to forgive me for not recognizing you." She liked the way he was so direct, so different from any of the other boys here at Hogwarts who lacked the nerve to even ask her name. "What brings you here Zack," she hit her 'k' hard and saw his eyes burn with a different fire. It was not the fire of passion; it was the fire of fun.

Her change in attitude encouraged him to get even closer, "You are quite an exquisite sight to behold, Ms. Slytherin," he continued in a tone resembling one of fascination, although it was not exactly an answer to her question. She did not need to be told how pretty she was, it was obvious from the special treatment she received to the boys who stumbled over their own feet watching her walk by and the begrudged girls criticizing every move she made. Her wet black hair lay slick against her head and made her eyes more pronounced, two green orbs jumping out at him from a delicate face. He reached up, his right hand breaking the surface of the water, and gently traced the line of her jaw from under her ear to the tip of her chin, then let his hand drop back down. The small waves from the action made the water level drop dangerously low on her chest, even the bubbles were wearing thin. His gaze was set intensely on hers, devouring her mind through her eyes, leaping at her and challenging her to resist, and in that moment she felt alive. He held onto the tile behind her with both of his hands and slowly leaned his naked body against hers. "Hello, Ms. Slytherin," he said whispered when his face was mere inches from hers. He could see the tiny flecks of gold in her eyes that made them so luminous. She could make out every distinct freckle and sunspot on his tan skin. It was only a slight couple shades lighter than hers.

She leaned forward as if to press her lips against his but pulled back just out of reach at the last second when she saw him anticipating her kiss. He glanced at her, his hard length a constant gentle pressure against her lower abdomen. Then she smirked and decided to stop teasing him, stop teasing herself, and crushed her lips roughly against his. He let out a sudden moan but not one of pain, more like a surprised cry of pleasure. She was fast though and as soon as her tongue had darted in, briefly tasting the hint of peppermint behind his teeth, she was back out, but not done with him yet. Her mouth went immediately to a tender spot just under the corner of his jaw at the top of his neck. She flicked her tongue over the soft skin and tasted the tiniest bit of salt. "How was quidditch practice," she purred seductively into his ear before moving on to nibble the fleshy lobe that hung from it.

She had stopped enjoying herself and now she was plotting her escape. There was not really much choice. She had to get out from the deep end; she could not attempt to lead him to the shallow end and run up the stairs away from him. She moved him backwards so his back was against the tile wall. "It went well," he muttered, "You come watch us practice." She was hardly concerned in watching Huffelpuff practice for their certain loss against Slytherin next week. Without warning she grabbed his shoulders and used the force of her weight to push him underwater. He had no way of stopping himself as he sunk into the eight foot deep water before resurfacing with a gasping splash.

By this time, Flay had already hopped out of the water and had disappeared behind the veil of steam. "You'll have to excuse me Zack," she said calmly as she dried off hastily, "But it seems I am about to be late for a very important meeting." She slipped her underwear on easily but had a harder time with her tight jeans because she was still damp.

"It's a shame," she heard him say to her. She heard the water rippling as he moved along the closest edge of the pool to see if he could catch a glimpse of her, but the peachy green steam was too thick. "I was under the impression you were enjoying yourself," he said impishly.

She grinned as she yanked her robes into place. She muttered a quick charm to temporarily make the steam even thicker. "Look for me after the game and I'll show you just how I like to enjoy myself."


	6. Down and Out

[POV: Flay Lestrange (She has recently fled from Zacharias Smith in the Prefect's bathroom so as not to be late for an important meeting.)]

There were very few students still roaming the halls. Dinner must have ended already or there would be more of a crowd. "Pardon," I stopped the next student I saw, "What time is it?" The boy was wearing Ravenclaw robes and promptly informed me it was a quarter to ten before scurrying off down the hall, probably towards his common room. I didn't realize it had become so late. How did I lose track of so much time? My skin was particularly soft from having soaked for several hours and I had to walk slower because my rough jeans were starting to chafe the insides of my thighs. I could even afford to lose a couple pounds right in that area. I could start waking up early and jogging or even watching my diet. I liked to constantly indulge in cakes and pastries and other sorts of sweets but I never seemed to gain weight over it. If I stopped eating junk I could probably lose a lot of weight, although I don't eat much of anything else so that's probably not an award-winning plan.

The portrait to the Slytherin common room silently swung open after I whispered the password. Who would be getting cozy in front of the fire but Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy? Pansy did not look surprised and gave me a small smile. She had probably noticed I wasn't in bed yet since we shared a dormitory. Draco looked smug as he cuddled closer to Pansy. He even succeeded in striking a chord of jealously within me. With a passing, "Good evening," I was already on my way up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. I cast the couple a last glance over my shoulder just before disappearing behind the curtain. Draco had been watching me from the corner of his malicious grey eyes as stalked off.

The dormitories probably weren't as cozy as Huffelpuff's were, and was planning to find out soon, but they were still comfortable and certainly luxurious. Draco's father had helped furnish most of the common room, with ornate mirrors on the walls and a lavish oriental rug by the fireplace, along with a small part of the dormitories, although granted he probably did more for the boys than for the girls. All the beds had opulent black mesh hanging from one corner to the next of the four posts. If one were talented enough one could increase the optical opacity until the mesh was no longer transparent and very much private. One could also raise a silencing charm between the four posts so as to make the bed even more private. I happened to be one of those talented enough.

It was nine fifty-five which meant I had exactly twenty minutes before I was late in meeting Professor Snape. Mondays he taught me advanced Occlumency, Tuesdays he taught me advanced potions, and Thursdays advanced Defense against the Dark Arts. His alignment with the Dark Lord made our classes much more enjoyable than Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall on Wednesdays. I daresay that class was almost dreadful. Tonight I had Defense against the Dark Arts. I hurried over to my trunk, a polished black wood with silver bindings, and opened the heavy lid with a flick of my wand. Twins Flora and Hestia Carrow sat on a bed across from Millicent Bulstrode. Daphne was probably at her younger sister Astoria's dormitory since she was absent from her own.

I didn't bother listening to what the girls were chatting about. I dug through my trunk as efficiently as possible; it was full to the brim with everything I took with me from Durmstrang, everything I couldn't leave behind since I was probably not going back anytime soon. I found a pair of black leggings and tossed them onto my bed sheets. It didn't faze the Slytherin girls for a moment when I disrobed and yanked my tight jeans of in a hurry. We were all used to changing in front of one another. I, undoubtedly, had one of the best bodies of our dormitory so it was not an issue to me in the least. If I had been Millicent I might have had a few qualms about it but she too was a good sport when it came to this. I pulled on my leggings and black tennis shoes, leaving my robes in my trunk and my black flats under my bed.

Grabbing my wand I made a quick stop at the bathroom to check myself out before going anywhere. I had somewhat of a complex about always looking presentable, at least from the neck up even if I was in raggedy pajamas, not that I own any. My hair was still damp so I used a dehumidifying charm to quickly dry it in whatever tangled mess it might have been in while it was wet. Since my hair was so short, it was easy to detangle by finger combing. My hair wasn't perfectly straight though and I had to use a quick spell in the mornings to iron out the waves. I was so used to seeing myself in the mirror with straight hair that I now liked to leave it wavy every so often. Tonight I left it natural since I was probably going to end up sweating all through class. A dab of chap stick and I was ready to leave. I preferred a natural look on my face as opposed to being a painted doll. Good features didn't need to be fixed through powder and comedogenic fats.

Professor Snape was waiting for me by the edge of the lake where none of the dormitory windows could view us. It would be strange if a student woke up to what would seem like a professor and a student viciously dueling. He was in his usual black cloak and I matched him in my all black attire with only my arms and calves uncovered. It made me easier to follow in the dark. If my opponent had an advantage over me, even a slight one, it made my training that much more difficult. Professor Snape had given me a book to study. Every week I had to learn a new chapter of defense spells because every week he would shoot numerous harmful curses at me until I learned how to utilize them properly. You could say it was like a quiz at the end of the chapter. My wounds and injuries would be how many questions I missed since these extra classes were not calculated for any grade I would receive. Madam Pomfrey was now accustomed to treating my various wounds at odd hours of the night whenever class was over.

I could see Professor Snape's gloomy cloak billowing in the faint breeze. It was a perfect night for training. He was a dark figure against a dark background but I was still able to easily make him out. My human eyes had adapted very kindly from being in feline form so long that some traits, like sharper vision and enhanced hearing, had carried over. I was a registered animagus under the form of a black jaguar. Jaguars are different among the world of the big cats because they killed by crushing the spinal cord of their prey; their skulls are broader and the jaw is much wider. This is probably how Professor Snape recognized me as I slinked up to the spot on the lake where he was standing. I didn't glance at him once as I leisurely lowered my head to lap at the frigid water with my long, flat pink tongue. I knew this was aggravating him he said sharply, "Enough, Ms. Lestrange, don't you think?" It was unfortunate that I couldn't laugh in my feline form so I quickly transfigured into a human and did it that way, a small chuckle acknowledging his impatience.

Strangely, however, the miffed look on Professor Snape's face was the last thing I could remember from that night as I lay in my hospital bed, eyes barely open. My breath now came slightly labored and it seemed like the greatest task I had ever faced just to move my hand. It felt like my tiny slender hand was twenty times its actual weight as I twitched my fingers back and forth, slowly opening and closing the feeblest fist I had ever made. Silvery blue moonlight drifted down from the sky through the hospital wing's closed windows and laid a pale glow over the figure that was dormant by my side. The face was hidden, tucked firmly where my frail body met the mattress and the sheets were pulled back just enough to do so, I recognized the platinum hair and translucent skin of Draco Malfoy at once.

With a great effort I lifted my hand and gently stroked his soft hair; they felt like silk under my hand and I smiled at the mild comfort that it brought me. I heard him sigh as his back lifted in the air with the added pressure of more air in his lungs before collapsing back to the arch that settled mostly over his bent legs and arms for support. A twang of guilt struck through me at seeing him unconscious in such an uncomfortable position by my bed. He had clearly not intended to fall asleep here but was so spent of energy that it was most convenient to simply drop to the chair. He slowly pulled back from the bed where his face had been nestled in my side and gazed at me with wide eyes. Normally his eyes were unmistakably stone grey but they appeared very blue tonight in the moon's cerulean radiance. At first I didn't recognize the emotion in his eyes because they were hardly emotions he felt at all and I was surprised to see he felt them towards me: concern, trepidation, and maybe a shade of hopelessness.

"Draco," was all I could manage as I lay in the bed and pain started to arrive as I became more and more aware. Sleep was gone from his eyes as he held my hand, his much larger one making mine look all the smaller. He rubbed gentle circles over the back of my hand with his thumb but I don't' think he realized he was doing it.

"Flay," his voice was soft and tender, as if he wanted to be careful not to crush me. "I thought for sure," he started, "When I saw you," but again he was unable to finish. He looked away and a distant corner of my heart thumped for him to look back. I felt less alone if I knew he was there with me. I went to hold the side of his face with me other hand when I saw it: terrible cuts and bruises all along my arm. The edges were mostly closed except for some of the larger gashes and the flesh around the wounds was a raw inflamed and irritated pink.

"What happened?" it came out as a whisper but he heard me in the dead of night. He looked at my arm only long enough for a deep scowl to form on his tired face, features of disgust on such a prince. "How did I get here?" He didn't seem surprised by my memory loss and began explaining the events of that night.

I had gone for training with Professor Snape, this much I already knew. He was casting curse after curse at me as I deflected them and shot back my own. About half an hour into the lesson I was unable to properly block the Sectum Sempre curse and it hit the top of my shoulder. I was sent flying back into the great lake. Snape had expected me to recover enough to stand and wade back to shore but I was bleeding profusely from an arterial would close to my neck. I lost consciousness in the black lake and floated helplessly as Snape tried to get me out with a Hover charm. He had not anticipated that the relatively small amount of blood would so quickly attract the attention of the Giant Squid, who reached me with a giant tentacle and dragged me underwater before Snape could stop it. He managed to stun the enormous creature and, with much speed and difficulty, released me from its grasp. Having almost drowned while unconscious, I also suffered many broken bones from the squid's unyielding grasp and had lost a severe amount of blood from all the thrashing that had occurred. Snape rushed me to the hospital wing, attempting to heal some of the more fatal wounds while on the way, and had gone to fetch Draco as Madame Pomfrey tended to the emergency before her.

[POV: Draco Malfoy (He has just been awoken and is rushing to the hospital wing as Professor Snape explains the events of earlier that night.)]

We entered the room and I was almost sick at the thick smell of blood. It was like an iron bar had been placed under my nose. I could even taste the metallic twang on the tip of my tongue when I opened my mouth to speak. "Where is she?" I demanded from the nurse, not caring how rude I was. That's when Severus pointed one long boney finger at the girl on the bed wrapped in bloody towels. She was unattended as the nurse was mixing potions in a calculated sort of fashion but it didn't seem like she was working fast enough as I rushed to the girl's bloody bed and gently removed the towels. What I saw made me want to scream in an animalistic rage. "How could this have happened?" I yelled savagely at Severus, "How did you let this happen to her?" His face turned to stone as I whipped my wand out and held it point blank at his face.

"She will live," was all he said before swiftly leaving the room. I was trembling with rage as I pocketed my wand. I looked at her unconscious form and how she lay so still. She had a sickly pallor so unusual from her golden skin that almost sent me into a panic. Her heart beat seemed to be slowing under my hand as I growled at the nurse to move faster. Flay was dying and it was because of Severus. His slip up had caused this accident. It was supposed to have a controlled situation. The girl's hair was slowly drying in a messy tangle of blood and dirty water from the lake. The heavy scent of blood overpowered the fishy smell of the squid and the water. She was covered in blood, her own blood. There were scratches all across her arms and legs and torso, even her face had a couple small scratches, one more prominent cut crossing over her left eye.

"Her eye?" I asked as soon as I saw the cut. I couldn't tell how deep it was because of the amount of blood covering it.

"She will retain sight, I am sure," the nurse glanced back kindly as she finished making the medicine but I was in no mood to appreciate the gesture. I stood on the other side of the bed as the nurse applied a thick blue potion to the wounds, carefully pouring it between the slices of open flesh. I grimaced as they sizzled and closed before my eyes. Magical healing was not something I had ever considered studying but I'm sure it was more complicated than it looked. Once the nurse had finished she gently wiped Flay clean of any extra potion that had leaked out. She cleaned the blood as well and performed a spell I had never heard of that cleaned Flay's hair, leaving it slightly damp as if she had just gotten out of a shower. "Try to get some sleep," was the last thing the nurse said as she left the hospital wing.

I tried to put my head down and close my eyes but the bottle of Skele-grow on the night table did little to ease my anxiety. There was no use in waiting for her to wake up, it could be days before she regained consciousness, but I wanted to be there when it happened. She would be in pain and I couldn't let her wake up like that alone. She would be confused because she could not remember how she had gotten there. Flay very low blood pressure, something that had to be monitored from time to time. If she suddenly stood after lying down in bed it was possible that she could become very dizzy and fall. If she got too hot, from wearing a sweatshirt in the sun or staying in a bathtub too long, she could faint.

She told me once what it felt like after I had seen her collapse to the ground unconscious over the summer at the Manor. We had been playing Quidditch when she wavered from side to side on her broomstick before falling to the ground. I thought someone had cursed her as I swooped dangerously fast to catch her before the ground did. She said the first step was her vision beginning to black out, she would become dizzy, and as the spots grew larger until she couldn't see anything anymore a pain in her chest would grow unbearable as though she were having a heart attack. It was most painful and although it seemed to last less than a minute from a bystander's point of view, to her it was terribly long. Memory loss afterwards wasn't uncommon.

I couldn't be sure how long she would be unconscious for this time but my doubts were relieved when she woke me up at four in the morning, mere hours after she had gone down. I was surprised that she recovered from the blood loss so quickly. I had fallen asleep with my half of my face against the bed and the other half against her body, which had grown warmer throughout the night. Her hand was trembling as she gently stroked my hair. Lifting my head up I saw that her condition was much improved and I wanted to be happy for her but the look in her eyes told me different, told me what I had suspected. She knew where she was, familiar surroundings from what Severus had told me, but she knew not how she had come to be here this time.

"Draco," slipped from her lips like a prayer.

"Flay," I was so glad she was awake. She was so lucky to be alive. "I thought for sure," but I stopped and tried again, "When I saw you," but it was to no use; I could not speak those words to her. As much comfort as it provided me to know she had survived the attack, she would not benefit from knowing that she could have lost her life. I would tell her later once she was fully healed, if at all. The fatigue in her half open eyes was extreme and I couldn't bear to look at her any longer. The pattern tiled floor provided relief from her dulled green eyes, as if the spark of life was almost gone, barely a whisper of the soul that animated her.

She had moved to touch me when she saw the wounds on her arm and stopped suddenly, "What happened?" I looked at her and I didn't even notice that my breath had come to a complete halt. The scratches were still very visible against her perfect skin. How could such a beautiful creature be marred in such a way? "How did I get here?" she asked calmly but I could hear the faint anticipation in her voice.


	7. Color me Envious

Draco lay casually across one of the plush green couches in the Slytherin common room. The green fire burned dimly as he tried to clear his mind of all thoughts, of every meaningless thing from Pansy to potions to every meaningful thing such as the Dark Lord and his plan. He easily cast every dreary last thought from his mind. Slytherin common room was located under the great lake. The light shining through the water and the glass ceiling usually gave the room a sea green tint but it was evening now and the sun had gone and, along with it, all Draco's brighter sentiments.

"Hey," came a small voice. He instantly recognized it even after not having heard her for a week. She had been discharged from the hospital wing a week ago with a note excusing her from classes while she recovered but no one had seen her, not even the Slytherin girls who said she kept her curtains closed at all times. He jolted up out of his seat and stood with the couch between them as if she was a ghost. His lips were slightly parted in what one could only assume was astonishment. She smirked at his lack of words and slowly descended the stairs from the girls' dormitory. He closed his mouth and walked to the other side of the couch, watching her intently. She seemed to be completely healed except for a minor stiffness in her left leg as she made her way down the stairs at a reasonable pace.

"Your hair grew," he said softly, touching the bottom of her razor cut short hair. A week of her absence made him notice that her hair hung just below her jaw now, not perfectly level with it as usual. It was all he could say as he watched the beautiful girl who now had dark circles under her eyes. The pain had probably a great lack of sleep in these last several days.

But another pair of eyes was watching the exchange and vicious jealousy coated them as the hazel orbs watched the attention this girl was receiving, attention that Pansy never got from Draco even with all the devotion she showed him. She watched Flay with eyes full of despise. Draco had said they were cousins, but did cousins normally sit and cuddle on a couch in front of the fire? Not to best of Pansy's knowledge.

Draco followed Flay's lead as she walked over to the couch and plopped down with a certain grace about her. He sat next to her at a comfortable distance away to nonchalantly lean his arm along the back of the couch around her. She pulled her legs up under her and leaned into Draco, sliding down his chest and mussing up his shirt. With her head in his lap and her legs slightly more stretched out along the couch, she breathed a sigh of contentment, but Draco might have heard a whisper of pained effort.

"Does it hurt very much?" he asked softly as he gently smoothed his hand over her shoulder in a comforting way, although it was unclear if it was a gesture meant for her or him. Pansy grew more and more furious with every passing moment, extremely displeased by the display of affection she was unaware Draco was even capable of.

"It's going to hurt my marks in class more than anything. What did McGonagall cover in transfiguration last week?" Flay was very dismissive of Draco's concern, as if afraid to confront it head-on. Pansy's eyes filled with unshed tears. Her loathing for the girl grew exponentially as she looked the other way from the boy's attention. Certainly they were cousins but it made no sense that he would not show his girlfriend similar tenderness. He made it very clear to Flay how fond he was of her, whether it be by flirtatious remarks, casual comments, or even on the rare occasion in bouts of brutal honesty. He never showed this side of himself to his girlfriend though. Pansy thought that, given the chance, she could be as nurturing, caring, and loving as any girl he could ever dream of. Instead, he chose to be captivated by this unappreciative bitch.

Little did poor Pansy know, it was not that she couldn't provide the love he needed for her to keep his attention. Draco grew up in a home with a cold, inattentive father and less than adoring mother. The love he received from them was enough and throughout the years he needed less and less of it. He did not want someone to cherish him and show him romance. He wanted someone who could rival him and show him passion.

Flay lounged comfortable in his lap. It was the first time she had spoken to anyone in a week and it was almost refreshing. She was still tired though and was not up to any great physical task, although she wouldn't admit that to anyone. "We have a quidditch match this weekend," he drawled in the absence of anything else to say. The gesture kept her smiling.

"Against Huffelpuff, right?" she asked. He grunted an affirmation. "I'll be there to watch you win," she said as if the match had already been won.

"Shouldn't be any issues about it even though the team's been slacking in their training ever since they found out it was against Huffelpuff." Pansy glowered. She was always willing to bash the Huffelpuffs but he always brushed her off. What had gotten into that blonde boy? He must not be lucid! The distraught Slytherin girl could offer no other explanation, not wanting to accept that he simply was not attracted to her in the way she imagined and wanted different things from her, things he could not get from his cousin who was perfect for him in every other way. The most she could do now was claim Draco by any means possible, and if that meant sex on a moment's notice she would give it to him. She was still very pleased that it was her he went to when in need of a fix and not any other girl in the school. She needed to keep that dependency and hopefully she would be able to build on it, to try to form some sort of relationship on it.

She knew she was only fooling herself as the tears spilled in an unholy fashion down her porcelain cheeks.


	8. Victory

It was not hard for him to find the black-haired beauty amongst the snakes in the quidditch stadium bleachers. Not many Slytherin had come to support their team and even fewer Huffelpuffs dared to show their faces. It was mostly assumed to be a waste of time. But she had come and even appeared to be by herself, no vicious group of Slytherins tightly surrounding her.

Vaisley and Warrington had already made thirty points each on Huffelpuff's goals as Draco Malfoy caught the snitch before Summerby and ended the game. Zach had not been much enthused about the match to begin with. He had been more focused on glancing at Flay to make sure she was watching him as he showed off on his broom with aerial stunts and scored his team forty points while dodging bludgers that Crabbe and Goyle were sending his way.

Zach did not wait for his team in the locker room. He did not get them together and try to lift their morale. Instead, he quickly escaped from his teammates and sought to find the green-eyed girl as she had instructed him to do almost a week ago at their first encounter. Besides being breathtakingly captivating, she intrigued him in ways other girls had not. He did not know if it was her beauty that stunned him or her personality, and if it was her attributes then he did not know if they were hers uniquely or if they came with being in Slytherin house. There were many things that were still a mystery but he thought it appropriate to explore these aspects with her as opposed to simply waiting for the answers to come to him, or more likely: to wait for another girl to come by, another chance at what he had missed out on. He was almost certain the latter would not happen soon, if at all, and he was not willing to let her slip through his fingers.

He was certain that it was his determination that led him straight to her, although Flay might have said she had carefully orchestrated every detail of their meeting. She smiled brightly as she watched him walk up to her at the bottom of the quidditch stands. He still had all his gear on, broom in hand, and sweat was beaded in his warm forehead. "Good game," she said with a hint of barb. She was careful not to jibe too harshly in case he was sensitive about the loss. After all, he was still their captain.

"I'm glad you found it entertaining, Ms. Slytherin," he said sarcastically but with a smile. He was thrilled that she had kept her word and looked for him after the match. He had not seen her since he met her in the Prefect's bathroom and had been left to wonder if she gave him the excuse as a means to escape an uncomfortable situation. Now he knew she hadn't. "There's a party tonight at Hogsmeade in the underground sector. There's an open bar of butterbeer and firewhiskey after midnight to all those in their seventh year. I also heard the Weird Sisters would be playing." He wanted to ask her out but wasn't quite sure of how to go about it. Nerves gripped his innards with steel talons and made him choke with the anxiety of rejection.

"I might have heard of it," she smiled coyly, unaware of the intense effect she had on him. It was at that moment that a tall boy with platinum hair stalked off the quidditch field where his teammates were still laughing over the victory. "Congratulations Draco," she said in the same coy tone. Her eyes had narrowed now that she smelled the possibility of controversy. A devilish smirk played on her lips, an involuntary motion that did not escape Zach's watchful eyes. It was foolish not to see the danger these two posed when coupled with the other's presence.

The blondes did not acknowledge each other, although Flay had not expected them to, but both chose to keep their attention fixed on her. One was tempted to resist conflict while the other was resisting to be tempted by it. "Will you be accompanying me to the Devil's Den this evening?" he asked without waiting for an answer, "I can be waiting for you by the fireplace by nine."

"You're going with Pansy, aren't you?" she asked him in a bleak sort of bored tone. She was tired of his possessive bullshit. He had to either claim her or let her go. She had enough of this unspoken territorial shit. But she wasn't at her wit's end yet, so she kept on playing the game. Besides, she still hadn't gotten him back for laying a hand on her in the Forbidden Forest.

"Yes," he said precisely. She felt the pressure of his grey eyes weighing on her and decided to cut him short.

"Then I will be going with Zach," she said sweetly without even a glance in the boy's direction. It had gone beyond the question of what house she chose to date in, now it was a matter of principle. Zach was smart to keep his mouth closed. Even the most innocent word from his could have caused a grisly reaction from Draco that would only have escalated into a full out brawl. Whether the fight would have been between Draco and Zach or Draco and Flay would have been another matter.


	9. The Devil's Den

Sorry it took me a while, but as you can tell it's a long one... Tried to switch it up with POV's and make it a tad more interesting. I'll be on vacation for a week before school starts so I won't be updating until September probably... Who knows, vacations bore me anyway so I might be typing away on the beach [or in the hotel since the weather's supposed to be downright shitty in the Dominican Rep this week...] Check back and please review! So much effort went into this chapter and it's always great to hear back from my readers :] Enjoy!

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She had almost asked him to meet her at the Devil's Den instead of walking in together. _Nothing personal_, she remembered wanting to tell him. _'I can meet you whenever you're ready,_' he had said with a look that told her he was lost in a hopeless fantasy. She played along, not that it really mattered much if she showed up alone or not. It was a personal preference the she did not mind deviating from, especially since she thought he might take it the wrong way. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was shamed of being seen with him. There were still some students who were not impressed by inter-house dating, but most either did not care or chose to look the other way.

"You look great," he said with a little less confidence than usual. He was beaming at the opportunity of being seen with the bewitching beauty that it was almost disconcerting for her. Didn't he think a bit too highly of her? She let it go without much thought. It wasn't a formal event so she had chosen something that strayed from classic sophistication.

"Thank you," she smiled knavishly. She wore an alternative brick red dress that reached just a couple inches past her ass. Her black boots were made of relatively thin leather but were flat to the ground and fell down around her calves like pirate boots, very expensive pirate boots. She hardly ever changed what jewelry she wore and tonight was no exception. Her earrings were silver studs with emeralds in the center that matched her eyes. They sparkled brightly whenever her hair wasn't blocking them. Around her neck was a platinum chain with a tiny cross that hung from it. Although it shone brightly against her darker skin, it was very much understated and still very reserved. She had dark smoky eyes lined in the blackest black she owned to make her green orbs pop from the mass of black hair and makeup that surrounded them. Her lips were covered with a very nude lipstick that served mostly to keep her lips moisturized. He wore light-colored loose-fitted jeans and a black shirt with black sneakers. His hair was still a little damp from a recent shower but she could tell he had put some sort of creamy product in it to keep it from turning into a mess throughout the presumably long night.

The Devil's Den was a popular club in the underground sector of Hogsmeade. There were many ways to enter but one was only allowed access if they had the correct code. Every party had a different code depending on who the host was and what he or she decided the code was to be for that particular event. Zach led Flay through into the Three Broomsticks towards the back where the restrooms were. He even had the decency to redden as he took her hand and tapped the floor with his wand twice. "Weird," he whispered so only she could hear them. Their feet seemed to burn holes through the floor right where they stood as they fell through the floor of the Three Broomsticks and landed in small dark room lit only by two torches in opposite corners. Three other people appeared after they did, two in the corner to their right and one in the corner in front of them.

They all walked through the door at what was supposedly the front of the room and were confronted with a loud blast of music pumping through the speakers. There was only one large room with a circular bar in the center that was closer to the back of the room and a bit farther from the stage. The only lights were lasers from the stage and the top of the bar that traced patterns through the boisterous crowd and flashed brightly in their faces, pulsing along with the blaring music. "Let's get a drink," she suggested. The room was full of people. They couldn't walk through the crowd without touching and bumping into every person along the way. Zach led the way and held Flay's hand to guide her.

There were two bartenders, a witch and a wizard, both in their early twenties. The boy had dark brown hair that glowed green under the bar's fluorescent light. It was hard to tell the color of his eyes but they were either green or blue. He had several tattoos along his arms that were proudly displayed under his sleeveless shirt. On the inside of his right arm was a colored picture of a mermaid that swam gracefully through a body of water that faded into his skin color. The other bartender had long curly blonde hair with dark eyes and heavily lined lips. She had several piercings in each ear, one in her nose and one in the middle of her bottom lip. The girl saw them coming first but only saw Zach because Flay was following him in the crowd. "I got 'em Trish," said the boy as he saw Flay lean against the bar top. "What can I get you?" he was asking both of them but only really looking at Flay. Zach didn't mind as he ordered two butterbeers.

Flay only took two sips from hers before abandoning it at the counter, "Let's dance." She almost had to yell to be heard above the resounding music. He nodded and chugged down the rest of his butterbeer and hers. She didn't pretend to find the act charming and instead waiting impatiently. A small drop had trickled down his chin when he slammed the second beer down. She smirked and leaned in, licking the drop off his chin and finishing with a quick smack of her soft, full lips of his. He didn't have time to kiss her back because she was already pulling him through the crowd faster than he had done before. Once they were in the middle of the dance floor she turned towards him. His grin reached from ear to ear and he pulled her in close to him and they started gyrating against each other. For the second time since meeting him she felt his hard member begging for release against her. Knowing he was so turned on by her made her want to be sexy for him. She wanted to please him, to satisfy the urge he was so desperately resisting.

The middle of the room was the hottest since everyone was packed in so tightly against each other. Flay might as well have been dancing with the girl behind her as well as she danced back to front with the guy she had come with. No one paid any attention to anyone else. All that mattered was the person they were dancing with at that point in time even if it wasn't the person they had come with. They had been dancing for a while now and sweat poured down both of their tired bodies as they tried to make a quick getaway from the dance floor.

She almost felt bad about ditching him then but it was hard for her to resist. She had seen Pansy and the Carrow twins and wanted to go swank herself in front of them. This was the Flay they couldn't see on school grounds. This was the Flay that had no reservations, who was controlled only by her own will. All it took was a pretend slip of her hand from his and he had lost her in the crowd as she quickly backtracked across the dance floor towards the restrooms by the stage. She stopped in the girl's room quickly to check her makeup. She slid her wand out the side of her boot and did a quick spell to cool her down. She was definitely overheating in that room. She slipped her wand away and shook her hair back, running her fingers through it carelessly. She had a wild look about her with her tousled hair and a slight sheen across her forehead. The overall effect made her smile at her reflection in the mirror.

She left the bathroom but instead of going to where the girls had been she assumed a quick pace and made her way to the bar again. The bartender grinned when he saw her, "Firewhiskey?" he asked. He had seen that she wasn't much of a butterbeer fan and had left most of hers untouched.

She smiled back at him, "Two please," and held up her first two fingers in what could have been mistaken as a sign of peace. His name tag read Brett. He pulled out two shot glasses and poured the whiskey in without spilling any onto the counter. She picked one up, "Toast with me," she said with a smile. He laughed and picked up the other one, holding it up level to hers. "To drinking on the job!" they laughed and swallowed their shots, slamming the tiny glasses down on the counter when they finished. She took a deep breath through her mouth to feel the burn of the alcohol. He winked at her as she turned to leave.

Now she was back in the mass of moving people. She didn't keep an eye out for Zach to avoid him as he might notice her watchfulness before she noticed him. She didn't want him for him to suspect anything. In this case if he found her amongst the crowd it wouldn't be difficult to pull off saying she lost him earlier.

The Weird Sisters had just arrived and were setting up their equipment on stage. There were two giant speakers on either side that were still blasting rave music with synthesizers and deep bass. Flay had made her way over to the one on the side farther from the restrooms where she had seen a few Slytherins earlier in the night. Everyone was too busy dancing and drinking to notice as she crept up in front of the speaker, which was taller and wider than her, and started moving her body with the rhythm of the beat. The speakers were so loud they pushed her hair out of her face every time they thumped and her heart felt as if it was beating in time with the bass. All sense of time and reality was superfluous for Flay as she swayed and rocked to the house music. The roar of the crowd was lost on her as all she could hear was the constant pounding as it phased in and out in altered patterns.

[POV: Myron Wagtail, lead singer of the Weird Sisters (The band is about ready to perform and he noticed Flay dancing by the speaker.)]

She was a saucy little thing, dancing on stage in front of the speaker like that. Moved like a real woman. If she wasn't so young I'd like to get her alone backstage. I tapped her shoulder and she turned to look at me; just old enough for what was considered acceptable from a man my age. She had this short red number on with a great pair of black boots. Her hair was savage and her eyes were feral, like a newly infected werewolf on the night of its first full moon. I motioned for her to come backstage with me. "'Scuse me Miss," I couldn't help grinning at her; the girl was gorgeous, "I saw you dancin' and I was wondering if you'd like to go on tour with us this year. Our manager's lookin' for some girls to help promote the band but I figured I could do some recruitin' of my own." She didn't look very convinced but I kept going. You never know, maybe the locations could sway her; "We'll be leavin' London and goin' to Barcelona, Paris, Munich, and Moscow."

"I'd very much like to but I'm afraid I can't," her voice was like cold honey slowly dripping from a warm spoon that has been stirred in black tea: sweet and bitter, hot and cold, I couldn't figure her out. "You see, I still have one year of school left at Hogwarts. I mustn't leave before I finish my education. I'm sure you can agree."

"Yes, yes, you're right. Can't be doin' that, now can you?" not gonna lie, I was pretty disappointed she said no. But school comes first I guess. Didn't back in the day. When I was a git we did what we wanted. "Well if you get a chance, over one of your breaks, I dunno, summer or winter?" I paused to dig into my back pocket, "Here's two free tickets." I handed her the small square pieces of paper and put my hand on her shoulder. She had such a fragile frame under my large callused hand.

"Thank you so much," she grinned back at me.

"Hope to see you there," I smiled because I didn't really know what else to say.

"You can count on it," she said. Then she kissed me on the cheek and disappeared back into the crowd where I saw a young blonde fellow immediately turn his head when he saw her. Ah, that girl was firecracker. I could tell. Shame she wasn't older.

[POV: Pansy Parkinson (She just spotted Draco in the mass of people but is reluctant to greet her after seeing he has already gotten a hold of Flay.)]

Blast this bloody mass off buffoons and their music. I can't hear a thing they're saying. This is terrible I have to get closer. He'll most certainly recognize me if I get too close, we did come together after all. Look at her! What kind of Slytherin wears a red dress like that? Mine is much more appropriate. I'm sure Draco likes it more. It's green and sleeveless and very tight and short. And my black shoes compliment my legs so well. My hair looks better than hers too, at least I look composed. He didn't even make a comment when he saw me but Millicent says that's because he doesn't tell everyone his feelings. Bullocks. He's just a bit daft I suppose. Doesn't see true beauty when it's entering a party on his arm. At least we came together. Everyone got to see me on his arm. Now there must be no doubt about our relationship. Anybody who's anybody knows we're an item.

Exactly. We're an item. I'm just going to walk up to them very casually, show Draco that I am severely more attractive than that cousin of his, and engage myself in their conversation. Good, it's a plan. But is it a good plan? What if he's upset because I interrupted an important conversation? No, I'm his girlfriend. Draco won't mind. He'll be happy to see me.

"Hi darling!" I shouted over the music. Draco had his back to me but Flay saw me. She stopped talking mid sentence and looked me up and down, stopping at my eyes. She did have very green eyes, but she was wearing so much makeup. Draco must think she looked like a clown. He turned around to see what had stopped his cousin so abruptly and saw me. I strut over in my high heels and linked my arm through Draco's. I put my hand on his cheek and turned his face so he was leaning in towards me. I gave him a long, thorough kiss right in front of the girl as she watched and waited. "How are you?" I said with my hand still on his face. "Flora and Hestia have gone to get another butterbeer. Would you like to come for a drink with me?" I made sure I directed my question to Draco only. No way I wanted that bitch to come. I didn't even want another butterbeer, I just wanted my boyfriend away from that wench! Merlin, she made me so angry sometimes. I had to maintain my composure. Deep breaths, Pans, deep breaths and count to ten before hexing her. Only five if it's a jinx though.

[POV: Draco Malfoy (He has just caught sight of Flay leaving the backstage and entering the flow of the crowd.)]

I managed to catch her before she had time to disappear behind all these bumbling fools, all too lost in their good times to think of anything decent. I grabbed the last inch of her short red dress and tugged it backwards. She stopped and turned around, probably trying to unhook herself from whatever, or whoever, she had gotten caught on; not hard to imagine with so many people crammed in this room. There must have been hundreds! It was insanity.

When she saw me her face showed slightly less amusement. I let go of her dress and she immediately turned to keep walking away from me. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her off to the side of the Den. "Where's your Huffelpuff?" I taunted with a smirk on my lips; I knew it irritated her that I couldn't get over my house-to-house prejudices. There were different houses for a reason: people were different and needed to be separated. I did not see the need to mingle them back together after the Sorting Hat had done all that work.

"I temporarily disowned him," she kept a straight face, not a hint of emotion shone through. "Where's your girlfriend?" she countered.

I shrugged, "Somewhere with the others from our House."

Her eyes narrowed and I waited for her next remark, "You should keep an eye on your dog. She might run away and not be able to find her way back home." There it was, that sharp tongue that kept me instigating for more.

"You look like someone has just come and ravished you. What were you doing backstage?" I asked pointedly, no use in beating around the bush with this woman. She was just as good at playing games as I was.

"I ran into a very particular man. He-" she didn't finish her sentence but instead halted abruptly. She was looking past my shoulder with none-too-friendly eyes. They hadn't narrowed like they did with me, instead she closed her mouth and just stood there waiting.

I turned around to see none other than Pansy. She pranced over in her ridiculously high pumps and put her arm through mine. Was I going to have to tell her again that I did not like her little public displays? "Hi darling!" she said, but I was more reading her lips than hearing her over the loud music. I saw the Weird Sisters setting up on stage, hopefully this house music would end soon. My head was beginning to pound in time with it. Wait, the Weird Sisters. On stage. Flay. Backstage. I didn't have time to put the fragments into a complete thought because Pansy had grabbed my face and pulled me in for a deep kiss. There wasn't much passion in it like I was accustomed to from her. She was only putting up a show for Flay. I'd be sure we had a very thorough talk about this later. "How are you?" she asked. I didn't answer immediately so she kept talking, "Flora and Hestia have gone to get another butterbeer. Would you like to come for a drink with me?"

"No Pansy. Later," I turned to Flay who did not seem impressed with anything that had just happened. "You should go catch up with the Carrows before they leave the bar. You'll have to be hell bent on finding them later with all these people," but she didn't leave.

"Oh no, that's fine, as long as I'm with you," she smiled at me with hazel eyes that almost seemed dull when compared to my cousin's, who I had just noticed had already left the scene.

"Let's go then," I growled through my teeth.

[POV: Harry Potter (Hermione and Ginny left to get more butterbeer while Ron sat beside him on the chairs against the back wall.)]

I saw her squeeze out of the crowd and recognized her immediately. She was that girl I had walked to class with. We had transfiguration, potions, and charms together but she hadn't been in class for a while. Hermione didn't like her much.

'_Anyone who's that talented at magic is up to no good. They get bored with what they've got and want more. You know how Slytherins are: ambitious, overly determined. They'll learn the Dark Arts and use it for entertainment purposes. I'm good at magic Harry, but only because I study so hard! Everything seems to come so easy to her, it doesn't seem right. I mean, I know she's had advanced training in other academies but it doesn't seem natural, not to say that magic is natural. It's just, oh, I don't know Harry! It's wrong. She's wrong. There's something about that girl that's wrong._'

Hermione and I had talked about her in the Gryffindor common room the night after she and Malfoy had transfigured each other with such great ease. I couldn't be sure but I think she intimidated Hermione simply because she was so good at magic. Hermione might have been quicker and more intelligent when it came to the thought process and learning of magic, there was no doubt in anyone's mind of how well-read she was, but when it came down to practical use of magic Flay Black was obviously gifted.

I thought she was pretty. Her hair was black and her eyes were green, like me, but her hair was usually very neat and her eyes had a sparkle in them that set her apart. It wasn't a sparkle of life though, it was different than the sparkle Ginny had in her warm, deep eyes. No, Flay had the kind of eyes that looked at you and looked right through you. They were the kind of eyes that could not be deceived. She also had Sirius' last name, although she said that was purely coincidental.

I liked her. She wasn't like most Slytherins I had come to know or any other people in general that I knew. She was kind to me when I met her that day in the hall and bulldozed her over by accident but she didn't seem to mind too much. She was sweet, laughed and smiled at me, and didn't gawk at me because I was 'The Boy Who Lived.' She had a different view of the world. I could tell because she wasn't offended when I asked about her relation to my godfather. I guess I just felt like we were two of a kind, even though we were completely different on the outside our personalities seemed to match. It made me wonder all the more if, seven years ago, it had been a mistake to guide the Sorting Hat to place me in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. '_You could be great in Slytherin,_' it had mused in my ears, but I refused it. I wonder if Flay had been in Slytherin because she could be great, the Sorting Hat must have seen her potential.

She spotted Ron and I and walked over to us with a smile on her face. "Having fun boys?" she asked curiously. There was some sarcasm in her voice probably from seeing our grim faces and the way we clung strongly to our plastic chairs against the wall.

"Hi Flay," I smiled at her through my round glasses.

"'Ello," Ron muttered beside me. Ron had always been a little flustered whenever the topic of Flay came up. He refused to talk much about her but everyone knows that's just because pretty girls make him nervous.

"I'm looking for my date," she asked calmly looking around at all the people and making it obvious as to why she was having such a hard time. "Have you seen him? Zacharias Smith, that is," she clarified.

"Erm, no. Not as of recent anyway, Ron?" but he was already shaking his head 'no.' She sighed and pouted, leaning her weight on one leg and crossing her arms.

"What a shame. And the Weird Sisters are about start playing too!" she noticed how much enthusiasm she had put in her last statement and giggled. It was strange seeing this side of her. She was usually so stoic and calculated. Maybe she was a bit drunk. "Would you like to dance with me? Just for the first song. It's tradition to dance to the first live song of the night where I come from," she looked at me hopefully. Ron was looking the other way. He might have had a greenish tint but I couldn't tell if he was feeling sick or if it was the lasers in the ceiling.

"I'll tell them we went to the bathroom," Ron said in one quick breath as he hurried to the other side of the room, probably to be sick. Ron never did well when mixing firewhiskey and butterbeer.

"Great," I stood there stunned for a second at how things at worked out but quickly followed Flay onto the dance floor before Hermione and Ginny could come back to see me leaving with a Slytherin, and Flay Black of all the Slytherins it could be. The music was fast paced since the Weird Sisters were a bit of a rock band. They played three years ago at the Yule Ball. Ugh, the Yule Ball with Parvati and Padma Patil. That had been a cruel joke, but I had to go with someone. McGonagall would have thrown a fit if I had shown up alone. The first song they played was 'This is the Night.' Flay was captivating as she danced to it, like a hallucinogenic drug that swayed and ignited my senses.

She was standing in front of me gyrating her hips against nothing; there must have been a foot of space between us. Anyone who might have been watching would have said I was being a great boyfriend to Ginny, even though I wasn't dancing with her. No one knew I had evaded her, even if it had only been for one song.

_I'm going crazy in this hazy fantasy__  
You put a__spell__on me_

That what it was: a spell. She had me begging for more as she slowly brought her body closer to mine.

_So take your hands off me__  
Tonight I'm breaking free__  
This is the night__  
This is the night__  
_

I wanted to pull her in closer and move with her. I wanted to feel her against me. The allure was intense.

_You still look good to me__  
Oh but you're no good for me_

She leaned in and whispered a quick thank you as the song ended. I thanked her back and gave her one last smile before I left to join Ron in the men's room.

[POV: back to 3rd person!]

It was nearing one in the morning and Flay had gone back to the bar to flirt with Brett the bartender. The crowd had begun to thin as people decided they were too tired and too drunk to stay. "How's your night going?" she asked as he poured two shots.

"Lonely, until you came back," he gave her a cheesy grin, glancing at her to see if she was buying it. She giggled before they both took their shot. "Didn't you come with that Huffelpuff boy? What happened to him?"

Her face was mildly taken aback but not very surprised, "How is it that everyone knows he's a Huffelpuff but they don't know his name?" he shrugged and she didn't push the subject. Her date's anonymity could actually work to her advantage.

"Although I did have a blonde bloke come around asking for you. I had been a while since you had come for the shot so I didn't really know where you were, I just pointed him in the general direction you left in" he offered as redemption for not knowing Zacharias Smith's name.

"Oh," she said in a voice none too kind, "You should have told him I left," they laughed together as he poured another two shots. Again they slammed their ounce glasses down on the countertop. He left for five minutes to serve a group of witches that wanted one last free drink before leaving at the end of the night. "One more?" he asked as he came back to her.

"Last one," she smiled.

He poured the firewhiskey, "To new friends," he said as they toasted and chugged their last shot.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," she added as she made a move to leave.

She stood up off her stool. "A pleasure meeting you too. Thanks for the company," he said with a grin. "Hey, by the way, if you're interested, the next party is on Halloween. Key word: boo. It'd be great to see you again," he smiled playfully.

"If I come I'll make sure to find you," she said over her shoulder before she disappeared back into the crowd of lushes that were still busy partying. It was then that it occurred to her that she wasn't exactly sure how to leave. She knew how to come but not how to go back. She made her way through the mass of moving bodies towards the wall where the door had been that she had come through with Zach.

She had just found the door and was about to push it open when someone put a hand under her bellybutton and pulled her back away from it. She whipped around and made it that much easier for Draco to push her up against the black wall behind her. "Leaving so soon?" he drawled dispassionately, "Don't I get a dance from the prettiest girl here? I think I'd rather like one."

"Where's your pug dog, Malfoy?" she spat venomously at him. The Weird Sisters started playing a cover of Nine Inch Nails' original song, Closer.

The blonde devil boy smirked cruelly at the girl. He pulled her back off the wall and started moving with the constant ticking that the song started off with. It took a couple seconds but she smirked just as sadistically and began to move with him as Myron Wagtail began singing.

_You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you__  
__You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you__  
__Help me: I broke apart my insides, help me I've got no soul to tell__  
__Help me: the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself__  
_

She moved dangerously slow with him in a seductive sway that had them both in an altered state of mind. They were completely in a world of their own, their hips never coming apart. It was pure sex without getting down and dirty.

_You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings__  
__You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything__  
_

He reached around her and grabbed her hip, pulling back sharply and flipping her around so she faced away from him. They kept dancing, not missing a beat.

_Through every forest, above the trees__  
__Within my stomach, scraped off my knees__  
__I drink the honey inside your hive__  
__You are the reason I stay alive_

The song ended. She was still facing away from him, her eyes closed for she still wished to be lost in the music. The release it provided was finite but powerful, although she didn't know if it was the music or the boy who knew just how to move, who could predict the way she would move. She turned and looked at him with fierce green eyes. His stone grey gaze caught and held her, kept her hovering where she was. Without a moment's though she leaned forward and let their lips crash together, a collision worthy to shake the heavens.


	10. Lost at Lakeside Memories

The beach was fun but I skipped the discoteca at night [was totally lame] and wrote three chapters. I have no life, I know. ANd I'm working on the fourth one. Granted they are kinda short though, I'm moving fast! Stay tuned...

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She was lingering under the shade of a willow tree when he next saw her. He heard tiny bluebirds singing and chirping their sorrow for the season's end. Then he saw her melancholic expression, a small unimpressed frown graced her face as she stared emptily at the placid lake. The birds had been charmed for the minimal pleasure of company they brought her in the state of misery he found her locked in. The day after the Devil's Den had been a tragic one for both of them even though they had yet to see each other since. He did not know what to expect from her as she ignored his arrival.

"You're pathetic," he growled softly. It was the only way to approach the situation without tempting her to leave in unspoken anguish. "Stop sulking," he demanded, "I know it meant nothing to you, so why are you so distant?" he put slight disgust in his tone to coax her calm and calculated side out from under the veil of sadness. He needed to change her state of mind on the issue so they could both move past it. Even though he was only pretending, he needed her to believe it so he could. It took two to make a good lie.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said halfheartedly. She never took her gaze from the black water but he saw her eyes turn from passively peaceful to hard and guarded.

"Pray tell, what are you concentrating so hard on then?" he asked with honest curiosity but made sure it came across as indifference. He did not _really_ want to know, he told himself. After all, Slytherins prided themselves in their extreme apathy and ambition: two things the average person did not need much of.

"The Boy Who Lived," she said as if it was the obvious answer to his question. He stayed silent to urge her to continue. "Our Dark Lord has summoned me. He wishes to know my progress."

Draco stared unblinkingly at her and grabbed at her left wrist. She jerked back, attempting to avoid physical contact after what had happened between them, but he had caught her robe sleeve and was pulled to the ground along with her. He easily overpowered her and jerked back the thin black material, staring with uneasy eyes at the ominous snake moving through the skull's mouth. It hissed at him cruelly, reminding him of his own mark of servitude. His jaw clenched and he looked straight into Flay's frightened green eyes. Nothing to say came to mind and he almost pitied her. Sitting up, he brushed the leaves off his robe, "Are you cold?" But his question was not intended about the coming October chill that had settled over Hogwarts' grounds.

"It's not an issue," she said dismissively as she sat up and brushed herself off. Leaning on one hand she went back to staring at the lake that had almost taken her life, a hollow regard for the events of her near future haunted her. Studying her torment, Draco almost forgot about the night that had him doubting everything about his relationship with his cousin. He had picked apart every aspect so carefully, inspected every last detail, but was unable to come to a secure conclusion. Nothing in his mind seemed to want to lock in place with his heart, two separate souls in one embodiment that could not come to an agreement. Peace deluded his inner turmoil but he was able to turn the other way at the moment while there were more pressing issues to attend to. "I'll be leaving this evening after dinner," she answered his unspoken question. "My mother has provided me with a portkey so the ministry won't see the apparition take place."

"Somewhere in Hogsmeade I assume?" he stood next to her in the shade of the willow tree and they looked out onto the glass-like surface of the water together.

"I suppose so, although I have yet to receive the exact location," he thought he heard her sigh after she said it and thought it sounded like a mix of fear and desperation. For the little time he had spent with his cousin he knew she wasn't the kind of personality that panicked easily: it took a great deal of mental and nervous strain to stress her to the point of panic. He knew she had come here to meditate, create her mind into a blank canvas as he did when circumstances tended to overwhelm him. No other chore or activity could distract her enough to take her mind off the appointment so it was best to merely stop thinking at all. Mulling over situations that caused nervousness would only cause more nerves, the kind that a few deep breaths and a cup of tea could not soothe.

But he would not arrest the fact that there was no way for him to put his distressing damsel at ease. And it pained him that there were no kind words that could bring her solace. "You should eat something before you go," he suggested, already knowing she would say she'd meet him for dinner but never show and leave on an empty stomach.

"I'm hungry," she said in a small, controlled voice. He knew that ever since the incident in the Forbidden Forest she had been suppressing her blood lust. It was a desire in which she craved for living flesh between her teeth, muscle fibers tearing and arteries ripping over her tongue, the life-giving source smearing indiscriminately across her face. It was a carnal thirst she denied herself of, depleting her strength which would take time to replenish. He knew of her famishment but did not encourage her to continue hunting. Although it could not kill her, only considerably weaken her, it was very likely that she would end up hurt, dead, or discovered if she continued as she was. Neither of which was an acceptable consequence. "I take my meat extra rare now," she chuckled with only slight amusement. There was very little she could do to satiate the appetite but she was doing everything in her power without arousing anyone's suspicion.

She had begun to take on certain characteristics of her animagus form from having been in it for so long. Her eye sight was sharper, hearing was acuter, and smell was keener than ever before. Her hair had taken on a shinier black, fur-like texture and her eyes were an abnormal shade of piercing green. Her movements were gracefully seamless and she even noticed her body seemed more streamline with lean muscles that only became apparent and bunched up when she used them. Even her cuspids were slightly longer and pointed, but not so much that someone would take note of them when talking to her from day to day. Another quality that the Dark Lord seemed to favor was that she felt an innate voracity that called for her to hunt, to feed, to kill. The blood lust had progressed from instinct of survival to a game, but a game that she had to play or else fear the consequence of weakness that the hunger brought if not satiated.

"You should eat something before leaving," he repeated as if she had not heard him the first time although now he was referring to feeding a different hunger.

"I thought you were against that," she snapped back angrily, quickly reminded of how he had slapped her so heartlessly in the Forbidden Forest that afternoon in detention.

"Do what you want," he grumbled coldly, "You've never listened to me before so why start now." He wanted to be angry too but the guilt of having struck her so severely still weighed on him. "Get over it Flay. You're a big girl now," he taunted. He knew there was no excuse good enough that could allow him to strike her, knew it from the bottom of his pretentious heart, a heart of green and silver that was darkly overlaid in black. He knew it but it hadn't stopped him. He wouldn't apologize but he would make up for it in time. Given enough time, he could make it right to her, although she had hit him first. The bloody bitch had broken his nose!

"You're right. It's not safe," she said quietly in a whisper that would have been swept away in the wind if he had not been paying particular attention. Had she agreed with him? He could tell her mind was preoccupied with what she would be discussing with the Dark Lord otherwise she wouldn't have given him his way so easily.

"Lighten up Lestrange, it's not like he's going to do anything to you. Your mother is his most loyal follower," he said as if he was giving her his highest praises, "and you're her daughter, the youngest death eater, although I'm a close second," he put a hand on his chest to make the point. "You're like his favorite pet," he assured her. She gave a small smile; it wasn't often that a Malfoy admitted to being second to anyone.

"It's my mother I'm worried about," she said softly, turning hazy eyes to look up at his sharp gaze. Green met grey and she quickly looked away realizing her mistake. She wasn't ready to take him on completely after the way they had acted in the club. She felt scandalous simply reminiscing about his hard body pressed up against hers, wanting hers like she wanted his. "She's only gotten to know me for a couple months since she's been out of Azkaban. She might know my history but she doesn't know anything about how I lived my life. I can't say it was hard, I mean, I don't know how much easier it would have been if she had been there. She was never there. I just hope she doesn't compare herself to me and be disappointed. I need to exceed her so I can proudly take her place amongst the circle," she continued to gaze off dreamily into what seemed like another world, "I try but I don't think it's possible."

"You don't need to try to be better than your mother Flay," he said quietly, "You already are."


	11. My Dark Lord

"Tell me what it is I wish to know, little one," he rasped softly, his red eyes now following her every move intently for important information, anything that could be of use to him.

The portkey at the cellar of the Weasley's joke shop had led her directly to where Voldemort was waiting for her. She landed elegantly on her feet in a dark cave lit only by the twilight shining through at the mouth relatively far away. In front of her stood her Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. He had changed since she last saw him, since she had taken the mark and been given her assignment. He was no longer a skeletal being covered in thin leathery skin with a flat nose and slit red eyes. He had grown stronger since then. He resembled himself as he was many years ago, Tom Riddle, a young determined student with the desire for power in his Slytherin green eyes. His hair had grown long and brown like it once was: wavy and full cut straight at his strong cheekbones. His translucent skin seemed to glow in the dim cave and it somberly reminded her of another cunning Slytherin she knew.

She dared say he looked more handsome, more human even, although she knew nothing had changed inside. She had to assume it for her own safety as she approached him with caution. He found her fascinating because she was unlike his other followers that she refused to lie down for him. He wouldn't call her his match but she was certainly a challenge to deal with.

"I have set a plan in action that will allow me to gradually gain the boy's trust. Once I have achieved that, your plan's execution will follow immediately, quick and effortless," she said. Her vague explanation was not lost on Voldemort as he regarded her carefully.

She stood still as death as he took careful steps around her person, "Precise," he muttered sardonically, "As usual." He expected nothing less from her but a biting tone just like her mother had been before she had become so brainwashed in her devotion to his coming reign of terror. "Well then," a small smirk spread across his fine features, "That will be all. Thank you for coming. You hard work is appreciated and you will be favored when my time comes."

"The sun will soon set on the Boy Who Lived," she offered, "This I promise you, my Lord." She bowed her head waiting to be dismissed.

"Tell me," he slashed at her hopes of a painless escape, "How are things going with Draco? Lucius is much curious about the progress the two of you are making both academically and in extracurricular activities."

"We both excel in all of our classes, my Lord. We have also come a long way since we first met this summer," she said with a strained tone. The stress of being in his presence had caused her to lose a minimal amount of composure.

He saw he hit a nerve in the twiggy girl and a melodic laugh escaped his lips, "Come a long way, have you?" He eyed her suspiciously but let the subject go. He paced closer and closer to her until she was at the edge of the small rocky island. She had been here before: touch the water and embodied spirits of the dead would take a life without asking questions. "What _exactly_ would that entail?" he stressed 'exactly' because he knew she would be as vague as possible. The girl was intelligent; the more detail she offered, the more difficult it would be to backtrack if she said something wrong.

She took a deep breath but was incapable of saying anything. He saw the dread in her eyes as she choked on words in her throat. He didn't want her to fear him in such a way that she was unable to speak to him. He needed her comfortable with his power, at ease with the skillful magic he was capable of. He did not wish to control her so much that she was afraid to meet with him. Her mother seemed to know no fear, but she was also smarter than her mother it seemed. They were very similar yet very much alike.

"Speak Lestrange," he encouraged her by taking out his wand," I don't appreciate fighting my followers for their intelligence." But still she could not speak, caught with a wand at her throat and she was even more terrified of him. "Crucio!" he roared and it echoed throughout the cave.

An ear shattering scream ripped through the cave as her body convulsed in unimaginable pain. She screamed for her life, begging for the torture to stop, but he continued to cause her unimaginable torture. Half an hour passed before he ceased and when he did he approached her slowly, carefully placing a hand on her cheek. "Show no fear Lestrange," he whispered, "It wouldn't make your mother proud." And with that he disappeared, disapparated from the cave to leave her crawling in agony towards the glowing blue object that would take her back to Hogwarts.


	12. Ataraxis

"I missed you at dinner," he drawled with a displeased tone in his cold voice. She was quiet as she lay motionless on the couch. She did not feel like explaining to him what had happened. It was a pitiful story that she wouldn't waste on anyone's ears. He sensed something was wrong and kneeled beside her at the couch. "Flay," the way he sang her name made her smile involuntarily. It was a weak smile but it was all she could give. She reached her arms out to him. He balked momentarily before realizing this wasn't the time for inhibitions and quickly assumed her in his strong arms, sweeping her up off the couch and into his lap as he sat where she once lay. "What happened?" he muttered softly in her ear, "Tell me Flay, please," he begged. Her weak arms hung limply over his wide shoulders and her head rested heavily against his neck.

"Don't leave me," she said it in such a way that it almost seemed like a question. She needed his touch, needed his affection, needed to feel needed. He understood and held her in his warm embrace. He would never let her go.

"Did he hurt you?" he questioned cautiously as if the question itself could wound her. She cringed and took a shaky breath. Quiet sobs raked her fragile body and he held her tighter. When her wet tears penetrated his shirt and touched his chest he pulled her away from him, "What did he do to you, Flay? What's the matter? You have to tell me." He couldn't bear to see her in so much pain. It almost frightened him, disconcerted him; he had never seen her cry before and it shook him to the core.

She gave a bark of laughter, "It's nothing. There's nothing to worry about, I'm just a little shaken up." He scowled because he knew better: simple things didn't shake her.

"You know what your problem is _Black_?" he hissed her fake surname acidly, "Everything always has to be a one-man show with you. Merlin forbid if someone should offer you help or guidance; you won't have any of it!" He held her tightly in his anger.

"It's not worth the bother," she insisted.

"You're so pigheaded it's ridiculous," he growled in her ear. "You know you need me and you know I can't help if you don't let me. Tell me what I can do."

She had a quick answer for that, "You can shut up and lay here with me." She felt his grip loosen as he sighed in exasperation. "Just be," she said like it was the simplest thing, an action that he should know perfectly well how to do. But simply being was not as easy as it seemed, especially not in situations as such. He was at the same point as before: clueless. He still knew not what to do.

"What are you going to do about your mother?" he didn't dare say the woman's name out loud in the school in case anyone should be eavesdropping, the portraits included.

She groaned and it made her seem a little less insensitive and little more human, like a real person with real emotions and not a cold-hearted weapon raised for the purpose of destruction alone. "To be honest, I haven't given it much thought. I spoke to her earlier tonight when she told me about the portkey but it had been about a week since before then. We were alone tonight: none of the others came," she hesitated to continue. "He was pleased with the information I gave him, although granted I hardly spoke two words about it," she paused, reliving the pain that had only happened a couple hours ago. "He asked me about you, about us. You know how he favors us. He wasn't particularly satisfied with what I had to offer that time." His silence encouraged her to keep going. After all, this had been what he wanted from her. "You know, the Cruciatus curse isn't as bad as everyone makes it seem," she gave that same barking laughter again and it held a bitingly sarcastically and dry tone. She felt him grimace, his face pressed into her neck, like gravity seemed more effective on the corners of his lips. "Don't frown, Draco," she said softly, "It ages you."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could ease the pain. I know how it is to be under the Lord's wand," he mindlessly caressed her shoulder, drawing circles with the flat of his thumb.

"It's not so bad really. I thought it would be worse," she couldn't ease her on pain but the least she could do was make him feel better about it. Hers was mostly physical anyway, soreness from the ordeal that would take days to pass even though she already felt exponentially better. She was still healing from the encounter she had with the giant squid although she didn't let on about it. She used various basic spells to hide the blade thin cuts and bruises that were almost gone but still a sickly yellow against her tan skin. She couldn't hide the stiffness in her leg that had lessened as the days passed that she spent bedridden, but now the pain was sharp and unyielding.

"And what about the assignment?" he asked in an attempt to avoid discussing the unforgiveable curse she had been subjected to.

"It's simple. By the end of the year I will have him exactly where I want him and our Lord will be very pleased with me. It will be essentially up to you though so try not to fuck everything up. Okay?" she smiled but they both knew it was the truth. The completion of the assignment would lie solely in the hands of Draco Malfoy. God save the queen, if he messed this up he'd be in for some real heat.

But for now he didn't want to think about it. The pressure of his approaching ten-foot parchment essay for potions was already weighing heavily on him. The paper was due in a week and he hadn't even written his name and the topic yet. There was still time to bribe another student to write it for him. "Come sleep with me," he said. He managed to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice but she knew he wanted there with him.

He helped her stand and took her hand, guiding her carefully up the stairs to the seventh year boys' dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle were snoring heavily. Blaise was silent in his sleep and his chest only rose and fell the slightest bit. The two Slytherins made their way to Draco's four-post bed, heavy black material hung like curtains all around it. Apparently she wasn't the only one capable of those simple charms, or at least she wasn't the only one who thought to utilize them. "Those better be clean sheets," she whispered in his ear with a cheesy grin. He smirked back at her and helped her undress down to her shirt and underwear. The pain that coursed through her body greatly limited her movement. If she moved the wrong way too quickly it would feel like an explosion erupting from her core and pulsing through her muscles.

He climbed onto the lifted mattress with her, soft black sheets engulfing their lean forms. They shifted until they found a position that worked. They faced each other, legs intertwined and faces close to one another. He examined her peaceful face in the moonlight that bounced off the black silk curtains. It was a serenity that he wasn't used to seeing on her face. To him, she was beautiful and nothing in the world, magic or muggle, would ever change that.


	13. Strictly Business

"The Halloween Ball is coming up," she said as they walked to transfiguration on a sunny Thursday afternoon. Harry glanced at her nervously. He wasn't sure if she was trying to get him to ask her to go with him or if she was simply exhausting another topic of conversation. After all, the ball was this coming Saturday evening and all the students were scrambling to find a date. It would be rare and unheard of to even show up stag. "You're going with Ginny, right?" he was relieved that she wasn't coming onto him. If things had been different, in that he wasn't already involved in a serious relationship with his best friend's little sister, he would have liked to take Flay to the Ball.

"Yeah, I actually asked her today and she was furious I hadn't asked her sooner," he chuckled quietly, remembering her fight little fists as she playfully swung at his chest, laughing at how slow he had been.

"I figured as much," she smiled but he wasn't sure exactly what she meant by it. "You two are really cute together and I can tell you both really like each other. You eat three square meals in the Great Hall everyday and she's always at the quidditch matches you know."

He couldn't help grinning. He loved how Ginny was always there to cheer him on when Gryffindor was playing, "She's very supportive of everything I do. It's really great." He paused for a moment, unsure of how to phrase his next question, "Eh," he began, "How are things between you and Zacharias Smith?" He didn't want to seem too interested or accidentally rub salt in open wounds.

"Oh, Zack?" she asked nonchalantly, "He wasn't too happy that I ditched him at the Devil's Den but he asked me to go again Saturday night. I'm not I'm going to go yet; it depends how tired I am after the Ball." She paused as he opened the classroom door for her, "You should try to make it."

"I'll see how Ginny, Ron, and Hermione are feeling afterwards," he grinned and she knew he was thinking about the dance they shared that night. It had been fun but it had been purely for business. She had no real interest in him. Her only interest was survival. Her Lord would spare her if she accomplished the goal without any slip-ups.

She cast the dark thought to the back of her mind and entered transfiguration where Professor McGonagall was standing at the front of the room ready to teach. Pansy had already snatched an empty desk towards the back of the room and the only other free one was with Millicent. Draco had not yet arrived so Flay decided to do something daring. According to the irked look on Pansy's face, the Slytherin girl was not expecting the black-haired beauty to choose the seat next to her. She had been saving it for Draco but he walked in a minute too late and sat next to Millicent with a smirk on his face.

Professor McGonagall began her lecture by asking the difference between a werewolf and an animagus. Hermione Granger, who had learned these variations four years ago, quickly raised her hand and was chosen to give the answer. McGonagall awarded five points to Gryffindor and all the Slytherins groaned, disgusting at their enemy House's favorite show-off know-it-all. Flay held back the strong desire to feign illness in order to leave and avoid the lecture but, surprisingly enough, McGonagall took the lecture in another direction and only assigned an essay on the first topic. Today she advanced to human transfiguration, a continuation of their lesson about a month ago, except the student would be turning each other into objects they could find in the classroom. They would compare their end results to the original object of their choice.

Since Professor McGonagall had wasted too much time talking about werecreatures, she decided to skip the partnering process and told the students to work with whoever they were sitting next to. Flay turned to Pansy and shot a look full of guile her way. "Ready, Tulip?" she mocked the girl's name and smirked when the anger in her eyes subsided and was replaced with a shade of trepidation. Pansy remembered clear as day the incident her boyfriend and her enemy had a month ago and was weary of having Flay's wand pointed at her.

Pansy didn't offer to let her go first, "_Fermobilus_!" she shouted. A purple jet of sparks burst from her wand and hit Flay square in the chest. She gave a small grunt as she skid back on her heels a couple feet and shrank to the shape of the tiny white china tea cup sitting on Professor McGonagall's desk. It rolled and came to rest on its side supported by a delicate handle that looked as if it would break easily.

"Very good, Ms. Parkinson!" Pansy beamed as Professor McGonagall came over to examine her student's work. "Oh, but it seems to be missing the trim around the top," she noted, "Now try the counter spell." Pansy froze having forgotten the spell in her excitement. "_Umanos_, go ahead," Professor McGonagall reminded her.

"Of course," she murmured, "_Umanos_!" The tea cup spun on the spot and grew upwards into the dark-haired, unhappy beauty.

"_Fermobilus_," she growled through clenched teeth, not even having stood up yet. Pansy cried out as she fell back onto her bottom and flattened out against the ground into an ornate oriental rug. "You'll find, Professor," she began as she stood up slowly, "that there isn't a single thread on this rug that is different from the one behind your desk." Flay brushed herself off and stepped right onto the rug, "Perfect," she smiled. McGonagall brushed her aside and urged her to say the counter spell, "_Umanos_." It was obvious in her tone of distaste that she would have much preferred to leave Pansy as a rug.

After class had been dismissed, Harry caught her before she had a chance to leave. He tapped her shoulder, "That was brilliant," he grinned at her, eyes shining through round wire-rim glasses. "I've wanted to do that to him a couple times myself," he nodded his head in Ron's direction. Ron and Hermione were still collecting their belongings while Harry probably hadn't taken anything out of his bag to begin with.

"Thanks," she smiled back, "What class do you have next?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. You?"

"Oh, nothing. Tuesdays and Thursdays my day ends with Transfiguration."

Hermione had pretended she didn't see Flay and Harry but Ron nudged him in the back as they passed and gave his best friend a meaningful look while glancing back at Hermione to see if she had noticed. With a quick jerk of his head toward to door they were gone. "Well, I should probably get going," Harry said with a half smile at how his friends had reacted.

"Have fun in class. You should tell them something," she motioned to the door where his friends had already disappeared through. "They apparently don't think too highly of me or that you continue to engage in conversation with a Slytherin," she said with a smile as she turned to finish putting her books in her bag.

"Yeah, I will," he said in a hurry to leave. Draco had slipped back inside the classroom and was walking towards them.

"Potter," he hissed at him dangerously, as if the boy's name was a forbidden curse.

"Malfoy," the other answered back as if it was an insult in itself. One passed the other with electricity crackling between them as their robes all but brushed them.

"Don't let me catch you with him again, Black," he growled. "I can tell the difference between business and pleasure," he glared at her, "even if he can't."


	14. Hallowed Day of Saints

Hi... It's been a while, sorry! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I made a lot of personal tweaks to it everytime I read it. I decided on this title because I think people lose perspective of what Halloween was originally about. It was a day intended to venerate all the saints, not just a holiday when school is out and everyone parties and pretends to be someone they're not. Remember that as you read this chapter, although it has more to do with the next one. And I wanted to thank all my watchers and reviewers because it makes my day whenever i see a new review on a chapter :] Plus I'm always open to suggestions so if there's anything you'd like to read that looks like it could fit into this text, fell free to send it in a message, public or private. Thanks!

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The Great Hall was magnificent with its orange and black decorations. The ghosts drifted through the walls, in and out of the event as they pleased, but stayed mostly close by in honor of the hallowed day of saints. Almost all the students had come as well, dancing in their ornate costumes, some hand-made and others magically altered. Dumbledore had initiated the party nearly half an hour ago and entrusted McGonagall and Snape to leniently overlook the festivities as the students indulged in the intoxicating effect of fast music and strong drinks.

Flay sat in the girls' dormitory creating a beautiful design of exaggerated makeup. She was not interested in arriving while the party was still starting and told Zack she would find him once she got there. He asked her when she would be ready and made it clear he would wait to accompany her. She had been stepping into the shower as the other girls were leaving and was perfectly content with being the last one out.

She smirked at the mirror as she admired her work of art. Instead of wearing a mask over her face she chose to paint it on completely. Her skin was bare except for an outline surrounding her eyes that passed over her forehead and the bridge of her nose. Inside the outline were colorful swirls and dabs of sparkles that elegantly shimmered her face and made her completely unrecognizable once she passed a deep crimson lipstick over her plump lips. She added a brush of clear lip gloss to make the shine of the sparkles really pop.

The rest of her outfit was a simple fairy costume, but there a bit more story behind it.

_There was a package for me at breakfast this morning. A large white owl delivered it, plain brown paper with a white ribbon forming a complicated bow on top, and I knew immediately who it was from. The neatly slanted cursive on the white envelope that spelled out Ms. Black assured me exactly who it was from. I chose to disregard the package, inconspicuously slipping the thin parcel into my lap, and opened the letter._

_My dearest Flay,_

_I saw this in a store one day and simply new you would find it fabulous! I am sure you will wear it brilliantly. You are missed very much._

_Happy Halloween mon Cheri,_

_Olympe Maxine_

She wore it to honor her previous Head Mistress who had treated her so well at her last school. She had not been the woman's favorite pupil but was certainly favored among the rest due to her outstanding academic performance. The parcel contained a black silk dress with thin straps that crossed behind her shoulders and formed a deep V down to her lower back. It cupped her small breasts conservatively and was formfitting down to her waist before gently flaring out and flowing around her mid thigh. A flower design was stitched in dark grey thread as it drew itself in a randomly wayward manner from the back to the front and back around again. The thread was just a few shades lighter than the black dress so the design was not prominent but still very noticeable in a tastefully understated polish.

Since her dress was very short and her heels were very high; she decided it was a good idea to slip on a pair of matte black tights. The black outfit slimmed her body, making her look unrealistically thin without being sickly. It was sexy but not slutty and even though she would not be the only fairy at the Ball, she would be distinguished from the rest. She performed a quick spell to straighten her hair and began to apply a variety of different hair products as she bushed all her hair up into a punked out pixie style. She visited Hogsmeade earlier today to cut her hair back to its usual length so she could achieve this spiky look.

The last part of her costume, which was not even really part of the costume so much as she just wanted to wear it, was a necklace. It was a thin black rope that doubled up on itself with two slip knots so the length was adjustable. On it hung a tiny platinum charm of a snake no bigger than her thumbnail. It shone lavishly against her tan skin and amidst the black of her hair, makeup, and clothes.

_He watched as she stared down at the tiny black box that lay in the palms of her hands. She began removing the thin emerald green ribbon then stopped. Her hand hovered above the small package as she looked at him with startling green eyes. "What is this?" she asked, and the confusion shown prominently on her face because he smirked at her reaction._

"_It's a gift," he whispered. She cheeks were stained red from the rumble of his low voice, his face so close to hers and his eyes piercing in their desire for further response._

"_Thank you," she said carefully, still not fully understanding why he was presenting her with such a display of affection. He heard the apprehension in her voice and his smirk lessened to a thin frown._

"_Open it," he urged her in the same seductive voice. She worked quickly in removing the ribbon and opening the gift in hopes that he would not notice how her hands trembled faintly. The top of the box slid off smoothly and her breath caught in her throat, stopping the words from escaping her lips. He was pleased with this reaction and patiently waited for her to acknowledge the gesture._

"_It's beautiful," she said with awe in her eyes. He hungered fervently to kiss her parted lips as she admired the necklace._

"_You're beautiful," he muttered almost voicelessly as her green gaze caught his._

Oh! In her daydream she had almost forgotten to add the wings. A quick flick of the wand made two small black butterfly wings pop out of the air and another flick made them slowly move back and forth on her back.

With one last glance in the mirror to check her lipstick, she at arm's length away from a camera and snapped a quick picture of herself in the costume. It popped out of the camera displaying her blowing a kiss and waving with a smile on her face. She set this picture down on top of the envelope and letter in her trunk by the bed. She would send this back to Madame Maxine later this weekend to show her appreciation.

Zach was waiting for her at the entrance to the Great Hall. He was once again at a loss for words at how stunning she was. Although no longer bothered by this, Flay said nothing to encourage it. It was very apparent that he was dressed as a vampire. He smiled and two magically grown fangs slipped out from under his lips. She giggled at the silly costume he wore; the rest of it was normal clothes. Only a tiny drop of thick red potion dibbled out from the corner of his mouth and off his chin. "You look great," he grinned sheepishly, "I like the dark fairy look on you."

"Thank you," she said honestly, "You could say I'm a sort of dead fairy. I'm a banshee," she grinned looking at him to gauge his reaction before continuing. "I've taken the form of an innocent young maiden so I can seduce you to submit to my wishes," she said with the straightest face she could muster, completely deadpan.

Someone else heard their laughter, someone who was sulking from around the corner. When Flay saw Pansy approaching them she was immediately aware of the angry girl's hostile pace. The girls drew their wands and shot curses at each other without hesitation. One of Pansy's spells that had been ricocheting off the stone walls hit Zach in the stomach. He cried out and the two girls practically jumped out of their skin as he fell to his knees clutching his bloody side. "You bitch," he growled and threw a curse at Pansy faster than either girl had expected him to react. She tried to move out of the way but was not fast enough and the blue jet of sparks hit her in the thigh. "Flay," he said through gritted teeth, "Hospital wing, please." They completely ignored Pansy as she fell to the ground with a stiff leg. His _petrificus totalus_ had missed its mark. Flay quickly flicked her wand and Zach hovered in the air, "Not so high," he said uneasily as she brought him to a lower altitude. He did not trust her magic. She did not waste time trying to reassure him but lowered him to knee height and walked at a quick pace to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey did not even bother asking how the injury had happened, "I'm afraid you'll have to spend the rest of the evening here, Mr. Smith."

The nurse disappeared to make another potion and Flay took that opportunity to apologize to Zach for engaging in dual while he was so close by. "It's okay, really. There was nothing you could do; she just came at you," he grimaced in pain as Madame Pomfrey came back into the room. She poured a small amount of a faint pink potion onto a soft towel and dabbed at Zach's wound, a slightly deep scratch.

"He'll need his rest, Ms. Black, so if you'd like to continue on to the events," Madame Pomfrey suggestively nodded to the door. Flay bid her date goodbye and left quickly. This was already the second time that she had been asked out by Zack and ended up by herself, whether by choice or by force.

Pansy was nowhere to be seen, either in the corridors or in the Great Hall, as she entered the spacious room silently. About forty-five minutes had passed since the start of the event and all the students were busy with their drinks and their dates. The only thing that gave Flay hope that evening would not be wasted was knowing that Draco was now without a date as well. She searched for him within the crowd but no one was themselves tonight as people wore masks and wigs and intricate costumes as well as very silly ones.

[POV: Draco Malfoy (He is unaware of the duel between the girls and is chatting with Blaise against the far wall of the Great Hall.)]

Following Blaise's intense gaze I saw the girl he was looking at. She was dancing wildly with her friend and both looked easy if he really wanted them. One was dressed in a tight red cat suit with devil horns in her long blonde hair and the other was a cat with a tight black suit and black ears put magically among her blonde hair. They probably weren't worth the effort to get them in bed. Blaise had his eyes on the devil but if I saw the cat in the Den tonight I'd probably take a shot at her too. She looked young, maybe in her fourth year. If I got her in bed she probably wouldn't even know what to do. That could be fun though; I'd drive her crazy.

I lifted my eyes from the people dancing and the crowd parted just enough so I could see through to the tables behind them. In that one second I managed to catch a glimpse of the most beautiful creature here tonight. I abandoned Blaise's side at once and darted between people until I came out at the front of the mass, but she was already gone.


	15. October Nights

I know I've been going kind of slow with the whole Draco/Flay scene but I'm really trying to get a sense of the characters' true personalities before rushing into things. This is going to be a long story [15 chapters and it's not even Christmas break yet!] but in turn it has a lot more detail and development. I love this chapter! Hope you do too :]

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He struggled to catch up with her as she left the castle but stopped as soon as he reached the large stone doors. He could see her perfectly, that flawless black creature among all the pure white snow. He walked through the freshly fallen ice, his black dress shoes crunching and packing each unique snowflake down beneath their black soles, beneath his black soul. He approached her slowly, another black soul and a kindred spirit at heart, as she turned to acknowledge his presence.

"You always seem to find me," she sang and the quiet breeze blew her sad song away over the frozen lake and through the barren forest, but her words were never lost on him. His jewel sparkled solemnly on her delicate chest as she turned away from him and once more he lost sight of her angelic face.

"You left," he stated. His voice rang strong in the crisp autumn air, "I'll always follow you." His silver eyes begged her to turn and look at him again but she could not see the desperation that they held.

She inhaled deeply, letting her chest rise into the air and her back arch, "It's grand, isn't it?" The cold air chilled her lungs and stung her nose, "Don't you feel alive?" Then she turned to him and he saw the same sorrow in her young eyes that he heard in her sweet voice, the same melancholic grief that he suffered with through the nights.

"Yes," he said softly, his voice losing its resolve as he admitted to the pain he felt, "It's magnificent."

Tiny tears like small beads slid past her cheeks but her lips never quivered, "The pain makes everything real, but moments like these are what make them really alive." Liquid crystals slipped off her mask and froze before they hit the ground. "I'm so cold Draco, I'm so numb," but he could not say anything because he knew feeling nothing was better than hurting through it.

"You fret far too much over the matter," he attempted, "It will make you ill." She knew what he was not referring to the knots in her stomach that made her skip dinner but all the anxiety, days passed that were full of it, would drive her mad if she let it continue.

"I can't seem to lift my mind from it," she lowered her eyes so he would not see the defeat they held, but it was no matter for he heard it in her voice.

"The Flay I know would never let herself be defeated," he argued with a sense of determination filling his heart. He took two careful steps closer to her and gently rested his large hands on her frail shoulders. She had been growing weaker from the tension on her mind and difficult times that stretched her thin and made her weary of the next grey day. "You haven't lost the battle yet," he smiled, "You've hardly begun to fight."

Her teeth reflected as brightly as the snow she stood in when she smiled a wicked tug at the corners of her mouth that testified to her change of heart. "I'm unstoppable, remember?" she said with her hands on her waist and hip cocked to the side, her weight mostly on one high-heeled foot. The mischievous grin on her face made him forget everything and his mind went blank as all he saw was the happiness that radiated from her. It fell on him like the warm rays of the sun on an early Sunday afternoon with a sweet breeze and no clouds to mar the perfect cerulean sky.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "A force to be reckoned with." A slow melody floated out of the castle as they stood in front of each other, barely touching one another. He bent at the waist and took her hand, pressing his soft lips to the back of it. "May I have this dance," he asked, cautiously glancing up at her and keeping in mind how fickle she could be.

Her face of surprise intrigued him. Every time he made an advance on her, a display of affection or chivalrous gesture, it was like she was not expecting something of such graciousness from him. "You flatter me, Draco," she whispered breathlessly as he stood, his warm body so close to hers. He rested his hand on the small of her back as she put one hand on the shoulder of his black suit. He delicately held her other hand in his significantly larger one and began to sway back and forth with her. It was customary for pure blood families to make sure their children were learnt in the ways of the magical world and knowing how to dance was no exception. The couple moved perfectly in time, retracing their steps over the powdery snow as they went.

Finally the music drifted into nothingness and they were left still as stone, bodies pressed against each other in the cold October night. She did not want to move, with her head resting on his shoulder and her petite body in his strong embrace, she did not want the night to end. This moment of bliss should be accessible to her at all times, not only when she was suffering from such dire inner turmoil.

In a moment of spontaneity, she pulled back and cupped his chiseled jaw in her slight hands. He was forced to look at her porcelain face with its intense feline eyes that stared back at him with such ferociousness. His breath froze in his lungs as she closed the minimal gap with her luscious pale lips, smacking the deeply against his. She probed his mouth with her tongue like she was searching for something, answers to questions she did not dare ask. Then she pulled away and giggled. "Sorry," she grinned as she wiped away a smudge of crimson pigment left over from her lipstick that had mostly worn away. Now it was all gone.

"We can still make it to the Den," he trailed off suggestively. He watched her uncertainly. She had never taken such forward action with him before and he could not be sure of what she would do next. She smiled and nodded enthusiastically before heading back to the castle, tugging him along behind her by his hand.

She was the most captivating person he had ever known, involuntarily attracting him with everything she did. Every day he saw her he fell more and more in love.


	16. Beyond Wonderland

Sorry it's been so long! School is back in session so _The Strange_ has to take a backseat [sry sry sry]. This chapter is very much PWP but not to worry, I'll clear things up in the next chapter. Keep checking back! You never know when I'll post :]

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_Where was all this darkness coming from? Everything was black except for the windows which resembled a series of paintings on both walls as I kept walking down what I assumed was a particularly long hallway. I couldn't see anything, not the ground nor the walls, or even how high the ceiling was. I could see out the windows and it seemed to be sometime during late afternoon. The sun reflected brightly off the lake but for some reason the warm rays did not reach inside where I was._

_At one point I stopped and stepped closer to one of the windows. I reached out tentatively to touch it but under my sensitive fingers was the distinctive feel of an oil painting. I watched for a moment as a bird flew across the sky, a tiny black swirl of a thin-bristled brush that floated along the canvass. There was no wall behind the artwork, only a continuous black void that kept escaping my wandering fingertips as I tried to find some sort of anchor point. I walked around the painting; it hung in midair as I circled it slowly and when I was looking at it directly from the side it disappeared, like a sliver too thin to be visible to the naked eye. It all seemed perfectly unnatural to me but I moved on, choosing to stay within the path of windows instead of straying into the black abyss._

_I kept walking and there was no distinctive mark of change but the pictures suddenly stopped displaying landscapes of familiar scenery and instead portrayed people I knew. These pictures were different and I immediately felt myself turn grim at the thought of the memorandum that they stood for. They were the pictures someone would keep in their home on a mantel after a funeral of the deceased. I continued walking slowly enough to examine each face as I passed it. There were many Hogwarts students from all houses, among them were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger along with Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. A blonde boy with the sweetest smile and a look of caring devotion in his warm olive eyes waved at me as I passed. I didn't have the heart to stop and pay poor Zack the same respect, only carrying on in my everlasting walk._

_Afterwards came the people I was close to, people I called family. Madame Maxine was there in her powder blue ensemble, smiling softly. Igor Karkaroff was there as well and next to his portrait hung one of Viktor Krum's, both in fur capes and those funny little hats they like to wear in snowy Siberia. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were next to each other in black robes; his wife's gaze held more compassion than his cold one but both seemed to look at me with an air of acknowledgement and empathy. Lucius had passed his stone grey eyes and platinum mane on to the Malfoy heir; his son Draco looked down at me from where his portrait was hung on the wall across from his parents'. I willed my body to keep moving but the desire to stop and wait a moment overwhelmed it. "Draco," it came out as a whisper as I grazed my fingers over the delicate portrait. He never answered me, just stayed distant in his cold silence until I left. I thought I saw out of the corner of my eye a look of regret on his face but I never stopped._

_My mother hung nearby along with a strange man I did not recognize at first. She had her usual wicked grin as she blew me a kiss with perfectly red lips. The man smiled at me and instantly recognized him as my father; we had the same mouth my mother always told me. I never knew this man, never had any memories of him. I only knew that he died serving the Lord. Granted, it might have been a noble death among the ranks of death eaters but it was still a death and he was still my father. He had the same soot black hair like my mother, beautiful Bellatrix, only it was perfectly straight like black silk. My soft waves must have been a mix between my parents' two extremes. He too had black eyes that matched my mother's. I had pictures of when I was young, before I practiced magic, pictures of us as a family when my father was still alive, and I remembered that I too had those same bottomless black eyes. Now they were a freak shade of green that stood me out from the crowd, as if I needed help with that, but I wore them proudly as a sign of my accomplishment in magic. Both of my parents were magically inclined and noted in school as talented in the subject, although many dared not mention their other inclinations that led them to the dark side._

_I don't know how much time I spent gazing at the portraits as I walked up and down the small section of the people I was most fond of but I heard a sound in the distance, a voice that I recognized. The portraits turned restless, fidgeting within their frames and glancing down the hall where the voice had come from. "Flay," it came again but this time I could hear it calling my name. My name, a memoir and a curse, was given to me by my great Aunt Walburga Black who had so wished for a daughter but instead had two sons, Sirius and Regulus. It was the name of a powerful sorceress who, in my great Aunt's time, had been burned at stake during the Salem Witch Trials. It was a noble name among the Black family because it serves as a constant reminder of our crest and saying, Toujours Pur, always pure._

_The voice faded away into a sweet song from the lips of an angel that carried through the black void I found myself lost in. Her song was melancholic and lamented of the mourning and grief her life had held before she passed away. Now that she was dead none of it mattered but her soul was trapped in sorrowful regret that she could not let go of. Her story tugged at my heart and I followed the sound as it led me further down the hallway. It became less and less prominent, like she was leaving faster than I could pursue her. My pace quickened as I began to run. I had to catch up with this ghost, this spirit of sadness that gave me the uncontrollable urge to embody it. But the saintly song drifted out into a whisper and slowly I was left in silence where I had begun._

_It left me empty and hollow that I could not reach this tormented soul and as my anguish turned to anger a whistle blew from far behind me. As it grew louder it became a cry of distress and louder into a harrowing scream until I could not bear the weight of the pain it inflicted on me. I ran from the terrifying howls and cried without reserve as my tears sang the song that was now shrieking in my mind._


	17. Visiting Hours

To all my silent readers: BOO YOU. Read and review: it's what you would want. All the same, hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a bit fluffy and reflective but that's what you get. If you don't like it, flame me. But at least review :(

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The screaming, it was my screaming. I jolted out of my bed frantically as I tried to recall the dream that had just plagued my sleep. I was panting and tears had left my cheeks wet. The pillow was wet in different spots; I must have been rolling and tossing. Luckily, my silencing charm was still in effect and none of the other Slytherin girls had heard me. An exhalation of relief escaped me as I gently drew back the curtains around my four-post bed and poked my nose out just enough to see the clock on the wall. It was three-twenty. I had gone to bed at three o'clock so it certainly wasn't twenty minutes later in the middle of the night. I probably hadn't slept twenty-four hours either so it must have been mid afternoon. At least today was Saturday.

It took me a minute to get out of bed. The act itself was torturous. I could feel my body aching from the night before. I didn't remember much of the Devil's Den other than everyone showing up in their costumes. The music was loud and I danced until the night was over. In fact, I think I might have danced until I was physically incapable of continuing; the only thing that kept me going was the false energy provided by numerous shots of firewhiskey. I was sure as hell paying for that now.

It brought me back to my holidays at Durmstrang with Viktor Krum. If I gained anything from all the time I spent with that boy, it was that no matter what ailed your body – whether it be intense quidditch practice, hours of hot sex, or a killer hangover – you could always fix it with a scalding hot shower. So that's exactly what I did. While I was in there, the boiling water not only cleansing my skin but also taking off the first few layers, I thought about Viktor. It had been a year this winter since I had last seen him. Normally I would spend the summer with him at his school but I moved in with the Malfoys.

It had been three months since I had sent him an owl. What would I tell him? He knew of the plans our Dark Lord had in store for me since he and his headmaster Karkaroff were still loyal and serving. I couldn't send him information about that in case my letter was intercepted by the Ministry for any odd reason. I could tell him about Hogwarts and the parties I had been going to. He would probably ask me if I had met any boys. Viktor and I were never exclusive boyfriend-girlfriend or anything of the sort, only friends who became 'closer' during summer and winter breaks. The good thing about Viktor was that he wasn't deluded by our biannual frequentations; he would always be interested in the men in my life and looked out for me, gave me guidance when he thought I needed it. I would have to owl him soon.

In the meantime I got out of the shower and dried off. I used a relatively small towel for my hair since it was so short and tossed the body towel in the hamper in the corner of the bathroom. I stretched, getting rid of any leftover cricks and kinks, and walked back into the common room stark naked and feeling much better. No was around which worked out perfectly for me, not that it mattered who saw me unclothed. I had a beautiful body; no complaints other than my breasts could have been a cup larger. Although, even at a nice b-cup, a slightly more than a handful in my delicate hands, they gave me a certain petiteness that made my slender figure proportionate.

A quick wave of my wand and all the water in my hair evaporated. My head looked like a chimney with all the steam that rose in the following few seconds. It was a spell that many witches knew but it was also quite easy to mess it up. I've seen more cases than I would have cared to know about of witches burning their scalps and even going so far as to light their hair on fire. However, I being the daughter of my mother, intricate spells are like a cup of draught of living death: quick to the point and always effective. I usually preferred my hair silky straight than wild and haphazard. I think it gives me a look of sophistication and age beyond my years.

Today was going to be a lazy day which meant minimal makeup was required. A light brush of concealer under my eyes to hide the dark circles and chap stick to keep my lips from drying out from all the alcohol I drank yesterday, along with a couple coats of mascara for the va-va-voom lashes I so loved and I was ready to face the day. I would also need clothes, I remembered after, and shuffled over to the trunk at the foot of my bed. A tiny flick of my wand opened the heavy lid, resting it against the footboard, and I began levitating books, clothes, and random objects out of my way so I could find something to wear. At last, I found a little dark green sundress that was almost black and a pair of black flats with little silver buckles on the toe reminiscent of the classic witch shoe. I floated them over closer to me and snatched them out of the air, carefully floating everything back into the trunk where it belonged.

One last glance in the mirror and I was ready to leave. I figured I'd stop by the hospital wing and see how Zach was faring. I cringed, remembering the way he looked at me in his dream. This was a boy that really cared about me. He wasn't interested in sex or showing me off as his woman. I had the perfect spell lined up for when Pansy tried me again. She would not catch me off guard like that again. Fucking bitch. I added a touch of musky perfume before leaving the dormitory.

The halls were crowded as usual but the air hung differently in them. Students weren't students on the weekends. They were regular teenagers who just wanted to spend the day doing nothing with people the liked. Unless your name was Hermione Granger, then you were rushing your two best friends to the library to get ahead on next week's potion's assignment. I watched them go. Harry must have caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye at the last second because his head snapped back just as he was being ushered around a corner and our eyes made contact for a fraction of a second. I smiled to myself. I think he was starting to fall for me.

The Lord would most certainly be pleased with me once I delivered the boy to him, alive. That was the only condition. Harry Potter must be alive. I realize that the Lord wants to break the protection of love for himself, to prove that he is most powerful in the eyes of all, but Merlin's beard, the old man should just be happy to know the brat's dead, not to mention I could bring him a dead boy with ten times the ease of a living one. However, if the Boy Who Lived wasn't alive, then neither was I, in which case I aim to please.

Moving on to a more uplifting subject, I was soon going to see Zach. I needed to see him after the dream I had, almost as if to confirm that he had not passed away. I thought about our relationship from the beginning thus far and I couldn't help giggling to myself like a young adolescent girl. We had met by chance, both breaking ground rules of the Prefects' bathroom, not to mention we had been naked before I even knew his name. I could tell he was instantly smitten by me, or at least by my panties that he had found lying on the pile of clothes that day. Then from the quidditch match forth I grew a certain kind of fondness towards him. At first I admit I only wanted to jump his bones but he showed a different sort of nurturing devotion, something one might call boyfriend material. The problem is that I'm no good for Zach. I'm only at Hogwarts because I'm a mission. I mean, the miserable git doesn't even know who I am really. Flay Black doesn't exist and if he knew I was Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter he certainly wouldn't want to know head or tail of me, well maybe he could still be interested in tail but that's unimportant. Thinking about it, Zach's the kind of guy who would be less disappointed in finding out I was the daughter of a ruthless death eater but instead more so at the fact that I lied to him about practically everything. He was such a good person I almost felt bad leading him on like this.

I needed a different kind of guy, someone more like Krum or Malfoy. They weren't better because they were in on the secret and understood, even supported, the plight, but they were in another mindset. These boys were cruel and lacked mercy in the face of forgiveness. They were masters of the dark arts. They were like me. Together we would become the next generation of death eaters to flank the Dark Lord's side and rise to power with him.

But for now it warmed my heart to see him grin and know that I was the cause of it. His olive green eyes sparkled as I walked through the large archway of the hospital wing. His smile was strong and he seemed to be doing much better. I walked over to his bed and gave him a big hug. Squeezing him tightly almost brought tears to my eyes. Vivid images of my dream flew through my mind and I held him for a second longer before letting go and sitting down. "How are you feeling?" I asked immediately. I still felt partially responsible for his injury. Pansy might have been directly responsible since she cast the spell but if it weren't for my little feud with her she wouldn't have tried to attack me.

"Not bad at all! Pomfrey fixed me up right good, but the old hag won't let me go," he leaned in closer to me and glanced around in case Madame Pomfrey was in hearing range, "She says it's because I'm not fully recovered yet, that I don't have complete range of motion, but I think she's just bored and wants someone to tend to." He pulled back and gave a hearty laugh, holding his chest as he chuckled.

"You're a right git, you know that?" I laughed as well in part because he was right and in part because he had a sense of humor about it. "Well, you didn't miss much at the Halloween Ball. Pretty damn boring if you ask me," I might have lied but it was for his benefit.

"Maybe," he mused, "but it's a damn shame I couldn't go. You were the prettiest girl there." He couldn't keep the grin off it his face and it made me laugh all the more. "You smell delicious too," he added with a wink. I enjoyed basking in his warm radiance as he sang my praises because I wasn't used to it. All the other boys were either too intimidated to say anything or too vulgar in their comments; neither of them really got my attention. The girls never complimented, only criticized. Merlin forbid my mother should ever do anything but nag. The Lord would sometimes say kind things to me when I pleased him. Viktor tried but, daft as he was, compliments never really came out very suave for him. The only other person was Draco, who had recently begun to come around. But I'd never felt so adored and appreciated by anyone else other than Zach.


	18. Flight School

Thanks for reviewing! I'm thrilled you guys wrote something for me :] It was a real treat! Enjoy the chapter, it's Draco-based since I've left him out of it for a while lately..

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I saw her sitting in the stands with the most vacant, absent-minded expression on her face. She was hardly interested in the practice to begin with; I could imagine this much from the way she looked right past the quidditch field onto the frozen lakes and ice-capped mountains of England. I couldn't understand why she even chose to come out on such a frigid day. It was Hell on Earth, except really bloody cold.

Slytherin had a match against Gryffindor next weekend so we had reserved the pitch for some last minute practice. Who was I kidding? Slytherin took the pitch just so Gryffindor couldn't have it. We were only throwing the ball around and racing back and forth, weaving between the goal posts for a little added challenge.

I flew over to where she was sitting. The only other people in the stands were two Ravenclaw girls who had a crush on someone on the team. They were giggling nonstop but were far enough away that I didn't have to worry about them overhearing. Dismounting my broom, I sat in front of her on the bleachers one row lower so I was just below eyelevel for her. She looked at me with her hands folded neatly under her chin and her lips curved upward into a soft smile but she waited for me to say something first. I went for it with a casual, "Good practice, eh? Definitely worth sitting in an ice box for," I added sarcastically. We have the same sense of humor so I knew she wouldn't find it disrespectful. "What brings you out here, Flay?"

She took a deep breath and sighed dramatically, one of the most emphasized exhales I've ever seen, "I'm bored!" She gave me the kicked puppy look and started giggling when she couldn't keep a straight face. She was particularly happy today, although I wasn't going to test waters and ask why.

"Well, that's no good!" I played along. I easily picked her up and sat down behind her on my Firebolt. She began to protest but I took off regardless. Flay was a great flier but I had never seen her on a broom with anyone else before. I think that was in part due to her lone wolf attitude.

She laughed as I rose higher and higher into the sky, "Draco, be careful!" The field was now the size of a tea coaster and the players were little dots that zoomed back and forth across it. A golden glint caught my eye and I instinctively whipped the broom around to follow it. She cried out at the sudden change in direction. I could tell she was enjoying herself. She loved to fly but I hadn't even seen her on a broom since she spent the summer at the Manor. Also, riding a broom as a passenger was exciting because you weren't in control and you never knew where you were going to turn or speed up next.

I followed the snitch as it fell unreasonably fast towards the ground, "No wonder I couldn't find the little bugger! Did you see where it was hiding?" I couldn't see her face but I could tell the falling effect was very intense for her. We were yards away from the ground when I jerked up on the handle of the broom and we glided along the low cut grass, the snitch only a couple feet in front of us. "Get it!" I had to yell because the wind rushing past us was like white noise in our ears.

She reached out; the sleeves of her black robe flew back against her shoulder and I was surprised at how thin she was. Weakness had yet to catch up with her though because she clawed the air like a cat with those painted black nails and the snitch had been caught once again. I brought the broom to a screeching halt and we both lurched forward as it finally stopped. She quickly jumped off and laughed as she held up the snitch triumphantly, "You'd be a great seeker."

"Maybe I'll try for team captain," she winked, handing me the small golden ball. The thin silvery wings were drawn in and closed as I locked it back in its place in the heavy wooden trunk. "Later, though, once you've lost to Gryffindor," she jibed ruthlessly.

"Ouch, Flay. Have you no faith in me?" I pleaded innocently.

"I have no faith in those who have the opportunity to practice yet squander it," she scolded with a sharp finger to my chest. I saw a shadow of surprise in her serpent green eyes when her finger made contact with my hard chest plate. I guess she hadn't felt the gear against her back before. It quickly disappeared from her expression, "Anyway I have to go now. I'm off to befriend the Boy who Lived." She glanced at her watch, "From what I can tell, he can be caught lingering by the shade of the willow tree across the lake on afternoons as such."

"You two are very compatible, bored so you torture yourselves by sitting doing nothing outside on cold days. Maybe you should fuck him too," I whispered the last part in her ear.

"Piss off!" she screeched as she shoved my chest with her small hands. I took a step back from the strength I hadn't expected. Her arms were rail thin but the hybrid feline muscles hidden under their skin were lean and tough. Then she recuperated the space between us with two quick steps and leaned forward, giving me a minimal peck on the cheek. "Don't exhaust yourself now," she grinned as she walked away and waved over her shoulder.

I couldn't help not being attracted to her. At times she was my steamy love affair mistress that I took pleasure in angering my girlfriend with, a temptingly gorgeous creature that desired me as much as I did her, but other times she was just my cousin, a beautiful girl that all the guys wanted and I felt I had to protect her from them. It's just that sometimes I wanted to protect her from myself. It didn't seem right, my mother's sister's daughter, but it felt so natural.

Sometimes I thought of what Mother and Father would think if I brought her home as my love interest. I don't even think they would object. Mother and Father, Father especially, believed in keeping the family bloodline clean, as was our family motto, _always pure_. It wasn't unusual for purebloods to marry within the family. In fact, the reason there are so few pure blooded families left is that they're all related in some way. I hate admitting it, but Potter is a distant cousin of mine, and Weasley as well unfortunately. But a first cousin? That would be hard to explain, even to _my_ parents.


	19. Chicken Soup

Say hi to Harry Potter. This is his POV. Thanks for reviewing! Enjoy the chapter..

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"Hi Harry," my heart skipped a beat. I hadn't heard the grass crunching under her shoes as she walking up to me under the willow tree, not the Womping Willow of course; I had learned that lesson almost five years ago. I was under the shaded part but it was too cold for the sun to be remotely warm.

"Hi Flay," I smiled and she smiled then she sat down next to me and stretched her legs out, crossing them in front of her at the ankle. Among all her proper etiquette and polite manners, she always kept it casual with me. It was like she was throwing up a charade for the world and yanking it down every now and then when we talked. Flay Black was just an ordinary girl but somehow she was so extraordinary at the same time. I felt like I knew her, like I had known her for ages. She was like a kindred spirit to me; I felt as if she understood the weight I had to carry. I knew she didn't, not really anyways, but she had a special way of connecting to me that Ron and Hermione never really managed. Sometimes I felt like she could search my soul with those green eyes, reflections of my own.

"Long day, eh?" she had stopped asking me where Ron and Hermione had gone off too. Now that they were comfortable with that fact that they were dating each other and didn't feel awkward around me anymore they would go off and have a couple hours of private time which worked out fine with me since I wanted to be away from all the fluff and love. The only problem was that sometimes our apart-time wouldn't line up perfectly so I'd be left alone like I was today. I liked how Flay would find me, seemingly stumble upon me, when that happened. I liked her company. She was a breath of fresh air because I didn't quite have a friend like her. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Neville or Luna or Seamus.

"Snape gave me detention again. In a few hours I'll be doomed to polish trophies for Filch until midnight," I sighed my exasperation but she laughed and leaned back against the tree looking up at the clear blue sky.

"Snape's been in a bad mood lately, even to us Slytherins. Better watch out, Merlin knows what kind of bug crawled up his arse this time," a smile reminiscent of her heartfelt laughter lingered on her sweet face. Flay was a pretty girl. She had a nice smile when she chose to show it to you, a smile that reached all the way up to her eyes and warmed her face like a hot cup of cocoa on Christmas morning, delightful. "How are you going to do in the match next weekend?"

I sighed, remembering our last practice, "It's a toss-up. Ron could probably benefit from another practice but Slytherin got the field this weekend and besides, he's been inseparable from Hermione lately." I felt weird always bringing up my friends when she never talked about hers. She didn't really seem to have friends though, just enemies and love interests. And her cousin who remained unclassified for now. It wasn't unusual for me to catch myself watching those two interact; it was quite interesting. Sometimes they would be at each other's throats while other times they seemed to almost be scheming together. And yet even other times, like when I saw them at the Den on Halloween, they seemed like they fancied each other.

"Really, eh? Well, I'm sure he'll come around. I mean, he knows how much these games mean to you. Say Harry, have you ever considered playing quidditch professionally?" she nudged my arm with her elbow so I looked over at her and shook my head.

"Not really. I figured my career was pretty much predetermined like the rest of my life: become an Auror and defeat Voldemort. That's what it's all been about for the last six years of my life," I had never really given it much more thought than that either.

"Yeah well I'm not saying you shouldn't do all that," from the corner of my eye I could tell she had cocked her head so as to peer at me inconspicuously. Not all Slytherins were supporters of Voldemort and she had never made any reference to show that she was. I guess she just wanted to make sure from time to time. It must be difficult having everyone always assume you were a supporter even if you weren't. "But after, you could always go play for a professional team. If you defeated You Know Who, can you imagine how many people would want to come to your games? You'd be an even bigger rising star than Viktor Krum is right now!" she almost seemed excited to be telling me this news.

"Yeah, I guess I could," I said quietly. I thought about how great it would be to play quidditch until I was middle-aged and richer than I could comprehend. "If I were to get really rich from it, I'd like to start an organization, like a charity I guess, that helped orphans. Voldemort was an orphan and so was I once he killed my parents," I hesitated saying the last part. It was still hard for me to talk about it even after I had accepted it.

"You have a good heart, Harry," she said softly, "Not many people would share their wealth. You would though, and you do. Wealth doesn't have to come in the form of money; sometimes it can be as simple as friendship." It was nice to hear someone think I was something more than a lucky, snobbish brat who was always getting into trouble. We were called the Golden Trio. If I had been speaking with Pansy I might have made a joke about the Silver Trio, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco, but then again I probably wouldn't be talking to Pansy and Flay might get upset if I mentioned how she broke up the former Silver Trio, or took the lead female's place anyway. Pansy and Draco were still an item, just never together when Flay was around.

"How can you like Draco?" I blurted out without thinking. My face was burning under my skin, turning it a terrible shade of red to prove my embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just, he's such a git sometimes," I played with the hem of my sleeve just to have a reason to fidget.

"I'm sorry Harry. I know Draco's been a right git to you and your friends. I've heard all the stories and I know he's been simply a terrible pest. But he has a good heart too," great so if both Draco and I have good hearts it must not be much of a compliment. "I dare say he's misunderstood but if that got back to him I'm sure he'd be bloody furious. There are a lot of things you don't know about Draco that make him the kind of person he is. He expresses himself in a way unlike other people. It doesn't take long to figure him out, but it takes a lot longer to understand his motives and reasoning." She was now comparing the polish on her thumbs, holding them next to each other carefully. The left one had a tiny chip on the edge that she rubbed with her other thumb almost as if it would fix itself.

That was when she stopped talking and excused herself. Snape had assigned her an essay due next week in potions that she had yet to begin and she had just remembered that she needed to go to the library to do research for it.

I watched her go. She looked cold, her figure so frail. I wonder what she meant about there being a lot of things I didn't know about Draco. What more could there possibly be other than he liked to flaunt his money and his father's high rank in everything the Malfoys partake in, such as the Ministry of Magic. He also seemed to think he was some kind of womanizer, capable of getting whomever pleased him and screwing over every mislead girl that was unfortunate enough to cross his path, all except one, Pansy, whom he screwed over constantly. And maybe Flay since she was family. Hopefully family meant something to that ungrateful bugger. If he ever hurt Flay I'd make sure he got what was coming to him.

It was getting particularly cold now that the sun was on its way down and the wind was picking up. I went to the Great Hall for dinner and found Ron and Hermione talking quietly over a bowl of chicken soup. I loved when the elves made chicken soup; it was better than anything homemade, homemade by Aunt Petunia's standards anyway. "I want to play professional quidditch," I said as I sat down across from them and picked up my spoon. Ron looked intrigued but Hermione was aghast.

"But Harry, what about," she paused, "You Know Who?" she said meekly so no one would know what a taboo subject we were talking about.

"I know, but I mean, after all that's taken care of I want to do something with my life that I like, something I can enjoy," I swallowed a huge spoonful of soup and instantly felt warmer.

"That's great mate," Ron said through a mouthful of his own soup. It didn't sound very heartfelt though.

"But Harry, what about being an Auror?" Hermione insisted. She had now set her spoon down and I could tell she was far more involved in the conversation than I had hoped.

"Being an Auror is all great and good but once I finish off You Know Who," I whispered the name as well, "I don't want to deal with dark magic for the rest of my life. I think I could be happy. Think about it; the both of you could go on dates to see me play with the Chuddley Cannons. Free tickets," I reminded. Ron grinned as he chewed a piece of chicken and looked over at Hermione to see what she thought of the idea, then looked immediately down at his bowl to avoid getting a severe scolding. She didn't even seem angry though, almost disappointed. I hated how they assumed I wouldn't live through my last encounter with Voldemort. They never said it but I could tell they didn't expect me to come out on top. I might kill Voldemort, but I don't think they believed in their hearts that I wouldn't suffer the same fate, that he wouldn't bring me down with him.


	20. The Witching Hour

Thanks for the reviews! I'm sure you know they're greatly appreciated :] Here's another chapter. I haven't quite fixed the Mary-Sue issue yet, I have a few bones to pick with Voldemort first (he's been left out lately as well, poor Voldy) but as soon as Draco and Flay get back to Hogwarts I'll figure something out... Who's excited about Bellatrix? I am! This next chapter might take a little longer to get out; I want to make sure I write Bella in just right. I won't be tolerant of any OOC moments with her. She's by far one of my favorite characters in the whole series, although I'm not sure if that's partly due to what an amazing actress Helena Bonham Carter is. If you notice any discrepancies assume that I'm going off details in the movies. I've seen the movies more recently than I've read the books so some of those details are harder to recall..

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"Where are you going?" a curious voice demanded from behind her. She recognized the tone immediately and stopped walking, cautiously frozen beneath the bell tower. There was no need to turn around to confirm it; the blonde Slytherin walked up behind her and tugged gently at the tips of her glossy black hair. "Question," he reminded her absentmindedly.

"In modern wizarding societies it's considered rude to pry," she smoothly countered him but he was not interested in listening.

"I'll have to thank Mother and Aunt Bella for raising us in old ways," he mused, now leaning against the stone column next to her. "You're leaving school grounds," he observed, "I'm coming with you." He pushed off from the column and began walking through the freshly fallen snow towards the entrance to Hogsmeade. She matched his stride, crossing the boundary just as the clock struck midnight.

"You really feel it necessary to accompany me?" she asked, now slightly irked that he had followed her.

"Lighten up, pet. I have my own business to attend to. Although, I won't lie, it would please my mother if she knew I went to go see yours," he spoke in a quiet voice so as not to attract attention. Several people were still lingering at the Three Broomsticks when they passed by.

"And what business would you be concerned with that just so happens to coincide with mine?" she asked, her voice doused in suspicion she did not care to hide.

"I'm receiving a package," he paused, "also from your mother, as it just so happens," he smirked, throwing her words back at her in a small personal victory. "It would be lovely," he emphasized, "If you could mention this to Mother sometime during your stay at the Manor this winter break."

She smiled, "I'll try to remember if the topic arises." He could be ruthless but he could be kind as well. It was almost a month until the end of term and she had already written a letter to Karkaroff requesting a place to stay for the break. It was hard trying to explain that she did not want to remain at Hogwarts, a far simpler solution than flying to Siberia and back, because she felt a stranger in her own skin here.

Truth be told, she had not expected the Malfoys to extend her invitation. While they had been warm and accepting of her over the summer, they showed no interest in inviting her back. She supposed this was due to just how much the Dark Lord had set his focus on her. Narcissa and Lucius were most likely trying to avoid as much dark activity at the Manor as possible, nothing personal against her, she hoped.

She was their niece, close family, although this bond meant nothing. She had grown closer to complete strangers, like Viktor, and they were hardly related. In fact, those who shared a blood tie to her had never been there for her. Her mother had been in Azkaban and her father was deceased. Andromeda, her removed aunt, had never attempted to contact her and neither had her other aunt and unlce, the Malfoys.

The only one who had always shown an interest in her was Lord Voldemort. He watched her grow from an infant to a young woman. He took an interest in her every step of the way. He gave meaning to her life. How could she not be loyal to him? How could she refuse to take the dark mark? If it had not been for him, she would be another unguided witch with too much talent to know what to do with it.

_A tall man with silky brown hair and dark green eyes consoled a crying child. She was twelve years old with long black hair and sad green eyes that overflowed with tears. The wet jewels soaked into the wizard's robes as he caressed the back of her head with the kind of tenderness a parent would envy. But he was not her father, or even a distant relative. He was only there for her. "Little Flay," he would hiss sweetly in her ear, "I know how hard it must be for you. I, too, had no one when I was your age. With both parents gone, the world seems like a colder, darker, crueler place. But you always have me. And when you're older, you'll be able to see that clearer." She cried because she felt alone. All the girls of her year at Beauxbatons shunned her for being different. Her parents were not there to tell her it was because she was better._

Every day that black stain on the inside of her left wrist served as a reminder of the life she owed him, the life she owed to the man who raised her to be the best sorceress she could be. She would make him proud. She would show him just how far she had come, that his efforts were not wasted on her. She would make him proud.

For now she had to stop reminiscing and focus her thoughts on her objective. It was the only way she knew how to get what she wanted, and now she wanted to be mature and collected. "Please don't embarrass me in front of Mother," she pleaded with him at the last moment before turning left into a narrow alley.

He was no longer grinning as he flattened himself against the brick wall next to her, "If you keep letting her get to you this much you'll need a shrink by the end of the year." Neither of them laughed at the tasteless joke as the reality of the statement set in. Both students were well aware of the effect their mothers had on them and were equally tormented when it came to making them proud.

A loud crack resounded in the darkness. It shook them and almost seemed to vibrate through the air as well. A tall witch in black robes with wild black hair and a maniacal grin stood before them, her wand tapping against her palm playfully. "Hello little tots," she cackled eagerly, "Ready to play?"


	21. Family Reunion

Here it is, the chapter that's going to receive the most flames in Harry Potter FanFiction history 6_6U The plot is a bit of a heel turner but I tried my best to keep Bellatrix from being off the wall OOC; this is my first time writing her into a story. The same can be said for Narcissa and Lucius. This is a Voldemort POV, thought that might keep things interesting for a change! Enjoy..

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It is a remarkable experience to catch a glimpse of ancestry in young eyes. Children that so resemble their parents in looks, personality, and allegiance yet detest them the very way they despise the darkness rising within their hearts, inevitably. They are able to endlessly ignore its numbing pain just as easily as smothering a weak flame with moist fingertips with hardly any burn caused to the extinguisher in the process.

There were the Malfoys. Their only son, a mirror image of his parents with silky platinum hair and penetrating silver eyes, Draco looked at his father with reticent indignation in his stone cold gaze, the same look Lucius returned to him from the other side of the room as he stood next to his wife. Narcissa, who was so involved in adoring her only son that she had yet to notice her sister and niece standing next to him, smiled warmly as he took his place before his family. It was a superfluous display of loyalty but nonetheless noted.

Then there were the Lestranges, granted there were only two of them but that was sufficient. I dare say raising Bellatrix's only daughter was troublesome enough in itself, another sibling would have been one too many. However, as I look at Flay I have yet to find a character flaw I regret instilling in her when she was a young and impressionable girl. She has her mother's ambition and determination, something I admired in a death eater. She used to have her mother's eyes as well, how I adored Bella's smoldering black eyes, but Flay's emerald orbs were just as captivating even though false in the nature of which she had assumed them.

I stared between the families as I spoke, "What news do you have for me," I paused before turning my head to look directly at the young Lestrange, "Flay?" She stepped forward and bowed her head in respect. I could tell she was much at ease facing me in a more human form compared to my last deteriorated body. She was more comfortable with Tom Riddle than Lord Voldemort. Regardless, she never forgot her place and did not balk at being the first to speak this evening.

"My Lord," she addressed me, "I am gaining Harry Potter's trust. I must be careful in assuming this, however, but it seems as if he accepts me as one of his friends now. When the time comes, I will deliver him to you." Vague as always, but acceptable nonetheless.

"I assure you, my Lord," her mother intervened, "She does everything in her power to please you." Normally, an outburst as such would be punished, but Bellatrix is my one unwavering follower. "As do I," she added. Yes. She alone stayed true to me when I was weak and presumed dead. She alone has earned the privilege of being my second in command.

"Yes Bella, of that I am quite certain," her daughter, darling little Flay, has yet to prove herself to me, as does the son of Malfoy, Draco. Soon though, soon they will both be given the chance to rise to power at my side.

"Draco," he stepped forward to answer my call, "Do you know what this is?" I levitated an old book closer to where he stood.

"No, my Lord" he shook his head.

"It is a book, as you might have noticed. Read the title please." I asked out of pure curiosity. I would like to know more about Draco but little time offered little opportunity. I took what was given.

"_The History of Rare Magical Items_," he said skeptically, unsure of why I was asking or what conclusion I was attempting to make him arrive at.

"Yes? Well, it has a magical ability, this book. One reads in it what is of utmost interest to the owner, so it changes from person to person. The title you see may or may not be the same that your father might see." At this Lucius gave a minimal scowl. He probably saw far darker topics than his son does; that won't last forever though. "As you turn the pages, the book slowly consumes your mind. You become the primitively instinctual being you were born as. It might aid you in your endeavors." I saw something fall into place in his grey eyes.

"I will put it to good use," he said before bowing his head and taking a step back into position in front of his parents.

"It would have saved the three of you," I addressed the adults that stood before me, "much hassle had I not called you here tonight for no apparent reason." I paused to see their reactions but the only one who answered was Bella.

"No, my Lord! It is an honor to be summoned at any time," she grinned and I could see the adoration in her eyes. "Your presence alone is of great glory," something distorted sparkled in her eyes, something she had gained while in Azkaban. I liked it though; it gave a true feeling of obsession to her faith. The Malfoys kept a stoic face and waited to see how I would continue. I was beginning to wonder if they depended too much on Bella to bring out my kinder, more merciful side.

"I expect many great things between the Malfoys and the Lestranges," I glanced from Flay to Draco, "Many great things," I repeated. "Flay," I hissed, drawing out her name and letting it dance across my tongue. Her beautiful green eyes were cast toward her boot clad feet. "I think it is time you tell everyone what great things you have been preparing for," the Black sisters exchanged a quick glance acknowledging that neither of them knew information that had been kept secret from the other. Lucius had more confidence and kept looking at me through narrowed eyes. He always expected the worst. Merlin only knows what was running through his mind this time.

Flay remained silent but Bella did not take well to her daughter's disobedience, "Speak, Flay," she growled anxiously through gritted teeth. I could see the nerves in her hand twitching around her long, slender unyielding wand. Flay looked at her mother with pleading eyes, "Answer your Lord," was the only response she received. She opened her mouth to speak twice but nothing came out. Her mother, however, was more successful with words, "Crucio!" the woman screeched. There was no pain in her eyes as her daughter jerked in pain, only a compulsive need for my adoration. Flay did not immediately fall to the floor. She was able to stay standing until Bellatrix screamed in rage and the curse amplified, crumpling the petite girl to the floor with a blood curling scream. Even Lucius, the compassionless cold-hearted man who knew no pity, cringed at the sound of pain that left more than a mere physical wound.

Narcissa ran to her sister's side and knocked her wand from her hand, "Bella!" she yelled. Her voice came out strained as she watched her niece twitch on the floor in what was best described as shock. Then she turned to me with terror on her face, "My Lord, I had to!" as if she had disobeyed a direct order and felt the need to explain herself.

She tried to blurt out excuses for her actions but I held my hand up to silence her, "Stand, Flay." She got to her feet shakily and stood facing me, never once glancing at her mother. "So strong," I commented. It was a difficult task even for a strong witch to mentally override the pain she must have still felt vibrating through her core. "Please, answer the question," I asked again.

"I am to bear you a child, my Lord," her voice hardly wavered as fear of imperfection took over. Her hand twitched to grasp her throbbing ribs but she stood properly at attention. Bellatrix's face had gone from enraged to stern. A shimmer of relief graced her features as she heard the news that she would be sharing a grandchild with me. Narcissa and Lucius almost seemed relieved that the news was not as extreme as they had expected. I gave Flay a look, urging her to go on. "It will be your son, Draco" her eyes shifted to glance at him but he stood too far behind her for it to go unnoticed. The silence in the room grew thick and unpleasant.

"My Lord! You cannot expect her to bear you a child with my nephew!" Bellatrix cried out desperately. Her eyes searched me for any mercy I might have normally showed her but my mind had been made up many years ago.

"Lord Voldemort, please!" Narcissa begged for my consideration as well but her husband simply remained quiet by his son who could not hide the emotions from his face this time. His jaw was hanging open and there was too much white showing around his silver eyes.

"How long have you known for?" he directed the question to the back of Flay's head and failed to illicit a response from her. She stood still as death in the center of the room, shame exuding from her flawless features. Her full lips were pressed tightly together in a thin white line but I did not know if it was from the embarrassment of revealing our secret or from the pain of being cursed, most likely an unhealthy combination of both, nothing Hogwarts' hospital wing couldn't handle I'm sure.

"Permission sir?" she pleaded quietly.

I ignored her and faced the rest of my followers, "I want a pregnancy by the end of the year, this December. I expect no delays, especially since the two of you will be spending winter break together, am I correct?" I asked Lucius but it was hardly even a question. He nodded his head in forced agreement and continued to follow me with his hard, indecipherable grey eyes. I momentarily turned my attention to Flay and nodded once slowly. Seconds passed and she disapparated with a loud crack. A puff of black smoke dissipated where she had been moments ago.

Her mother stood frozen as she was. Poor Bella, she never saw it coming. I was well aware she wished me to be the father of her grandchild, or even of her son if I had allowed it, but now was not the time for such frivolous displays. I nodded once to the Malfoys and they left quietly. Narcissa and Draco, a deep scowl on the boy's sculpted face, disapparated curtly. Lucius nodded once and vanished as a cloud of black smoke through the cracked window.

Bellatrix was left and I called her to me with a sweeping movement of my hand. She never feared me, even if I was not quite back to Tom Riddle's impeccable form yet. My fingers were still slightly longer and bonier than they had ever been when my soul was whole. "My Lord," she whispered, eyes wide as if gazing upon a wondrous spectacle, "Voldemort, how is it that you come to wish this upon my family when it is I who remains most loyal to you?" Once she was within reach, I lifted my hand to tug her closer by a lock of her untamed raven hair. "I beg your mercy my Lord," she pleaded. I saw the emotion bubble up inside her until it reached her eyes. They wanted to overflow but she held them back, restricting herself as she was so accustomed to doing since before Azkaban. I had not seen that kind of look in her bottomless gaze in so long, only reckless abandon played at her wicked smile and never even a kind word slipped from her soft lips or scheming glare.

"Dearest Bella, you will find me quite impossible to persuade," I paused and let the hopelessness sink deep into her cavernous eyes, "But you will be rewarded for your loyalty and efforts."

The corner of her lips twitched upward into the barest of forced smiles, "You are most generous, my Lord."


	22. We Lost Her

Sorry it took me so long to update, I know this isn't exactly a good apology chapter to make up for it but it's a bit different and maybe that's a good thing. I was starting to get bored writing this story which means you guys probably got bored reading it. This is POV chapter of four people. It's pretty obvious whose POV is whose, but just in case there's any conflict: Zach Smith, Viktor Krum, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy. It's set about a month after the revelation of the secret. And I know, don't get mad, this doesn't offer any explanation whatsoever for the baby. None. Here's whats up: I started another story on FictionPress.. So if you like my writing style and you like vampires, you should check it out. When I'm not updating _The Strange_ it probably means I'm updating _Disease: Desperation_. Check it out and let me know what you think, I don't have many readers on that story yet since it's brand spankin' new. Go to fictionpress. com and look up my screen name, manicdroid. From there just go to _Disease: Desperation_.

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She started coming around more often about a month ago. I could tell something had changed in her. Sometimes she'd be cheerful to see me, although it was a weak happiness without much effort behind it. Sometimes she was angry, but not raging, just a passive aggressive temper that I could handle even on the most spontaneous spurs of the moment. And yet sometimes she was sad, never cried though. More often than not she was just depressed. Her presence no longer radiated when she walked into a room and her eyes held a sort of melancholic sorrow that made me wish there was something I could do take the pain away.

She would come to my room in the Huffelpuff tower and we would just lie in bed. Sometimes she would face away from me and I would hug her from behind but when she was really miserable she would bury her face in my neck, chest, and shoulders. I would caress her softly, play with her hair and touch her skin. It soothed her for the moment so she could sleep but the hurt never really left her. Whenever I tried to talk to her about it she would ignore me. If I kept pushing she would leave. She came to me for comfort. I didn't want her to go away.

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She had sunken into a deep corner of her mind that I had never seen her in before. She sent an owl everyday and every letter she wrote me was filled with a stillness of her heart that I wasn't even sure she was alive inside anymore. I knew something in her had been broken but she wouldn't explain why. Whenever I asked she ignored the question and wrote about something else, something unrelated to the ailment. Russia was getting colder in the coming autumn months but she was colder than any snow that could ever fall.

I missed the way we used to duel. It was at those times that she was most full of life. Her eyes would sparkle just when she thought she was going to get the best of me. I remember her playful pout when she didn't and her laughter when she did. It had been months since I had seen her but I could tell she was not the same. Even her handwriting seemed lifeless. Everything was perfectly uniform, no sentences scribbled carelessly towards the end as she rushed to finish an exciting thought she was eager to tell me about. I imagine she wasn't eager about much these days, not even living.

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She stopped talking to me after class and never seemed to run into me as randomly as she used to before. She was never at the games and she missed more dinners than she came to. Hermione said she saw her frequently in the library reading books close to the restricted section. Before she would set herself apart from the crowd but now it was more like isolation. She used to be different now she was just alone.

We spoke once and I could tell something had changed about her, couldn't explain it though. She seemed bitter about something, like someone had done her wrong. All I knew for certain was that it wasn't against me personally, like, she wasn't avoiding me or anything. I can't say it quite right, maybe it was regret, I'm not sure. If the professors noticed her strange behavior, they never mentioned it.

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That fucking bitch. We were supposed to be in this together, and she lied to me! How dare she? I'm the only person on her side and she goes and pulls this shit. That fucking bitch! Merlin, what I wouldn't give to wrap my hands around that little neck and just choke her until she turned blue. And now I have to have a kid with this lying skag or Voldemort's going to do worse things than just send me to Hell. That would be a godsend of its own right now. I'd take Hell over that traitor so fast it'd make her head spin. I hope it makes her head spin so fast it comes right off her shoulders! God damn that fucking bitch!


	23. The Plot

Yet another chapter has come your way folks. Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys are great :] Hopefully you like this terribly short chapter as much as I do: I think it opens many possibilities for later on...

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She breathed a steady stream of smoke into the cloudless, black night sky as she looked beyond the balcony of the astronomy tower. She flicked the cherry red stub of her cigarette and tiny glowing ashes disappeared in the light breeze. Winter had come early this year and a pale breath of snow coated the rolling hills of the school grounds elegantly. She felt his presence as he arrived silently but did not turn to greet him, "Good evening, cousin," she spoke with perfect annunciation. She became more aware of her silky black pajamas and matching tank top as the breeze began to pick up, raising gooseflesh on her bare arms and hardening her nipples against the thin black material.

"Why did you ask me here this late in the evening, cousin?" he said caustically, staying hidden in the shadows of the tall columns as the full moon reflected blindingly off his platinum hair. His silk black pajama pants hid his bottom half in the shadows but his white cotton shirt made him plainly obvious.

"Just thought I'd share this lovely night with you," she said melodically after another puff of smoke.

His grey eyes gleamed darkly, "You are a filthy liar and a traitor to our family."

"Oh, come now Draco," she patted her slender fingers along the railing to her right, "Don't be a stranger." She turned towards him, leaning her back against the railing, and looked at him intensely. It had been too long that he had not seen her face and the silver moonlight only served to enhance her beauty. Her urge amplified his and he found himself standing before her, the dried tear tracks barely visible against her flawless skin. "Let's be honest," she began.

"You wouldn't know what that means," he growled deeply and so close to her face.

"I know. I kept a secret. You should burn me at the pyre," she said harshly in reference to the Salem witch trials, "But I've been scheming, you know, my favorite pastime, and I was talking to Viktor about the situation. He said he'd be willing to help," she trailing off, wondering if he had understood, "Do I have to spell it out for you?" she asked after a moment of silence. He nodded once, a slight tilt of the head down and then back up again.

Her wand had been tucked in the waistband of her pajamas. She removed it with ease and began to create four poorly drawn stick figures, "You'll have to excuse me. Art is not my forte," then she made a complex flick of her wrist and the figures began to melt and form new pictures, "But magic is." They became the faces of Viktor, Draco, Voldemort, and herself. Viktor leaned in to kiss Flay and when they parted a new figure formed, the face of a child. Flay and Draco presented the child to Voldemort.

"This is your plan?" he said, unimpressed, and swished his hand through the smoke figures so that they vanished. "You planned to _actually_ have a child? Here I was thinking you would try to be creative about it," he scoffed.

"Creativity is not what is important here. Voldemort will know if the child is not ours. At least this way there is no dispute that it is mine. My features are dominant over yours anyway, black hair and black eyes, it will look like me whether the father is Russian or English." He gazed into her emerald green eyes and wonder just how much of the beast was inside her.


	24. Vaguely Vivid

Another short perspective chapter, a Draco one at that! I tried moving forward with the plot but Mr. Malfoy was being too hostile and uncooperative from his last perspective where he was terribly angry. The kids weren't playing nicely because of Draco's baditude. It also sheds some light on the relationship since i think people are starting to wonder just how incestuous _The Strange_ is going to get. Let me make something clear, if I was going to make an incest story I'd just have made her his long lost sister. I'm trying to explore a different type of bond and all the complications that go with it. Personally, I think that way too many people stick to what's safe and accepted in the FanFic world.

* * *

There she was again, a distant figure in my life. I had known from the start that she wasn't who she appeared to be. Many a times had I stood next to her, watching as she played the façade of another life she wanted someone to believe. She hid behind a mask of perfection so no one knew what she was like. Who is Flay Black? Or for that matter, who is Flay Lestrange? I think that, upon being questioned, every person would answer the question differently.

She was many things to me.

First and foremost, she was my cousin, my mother's sister's daughter. We were forever connected by a blood bond. It could never be broken.

She was my partner. Her mind worked equally as quickly and menacingly as my own and for that I had to compliment her. Together, we would bring down the greatest wizards of all time.

She was my friend, there for me when I needed someone to be strong when I couldn't do it on my own. I've only known her for six months but we have such an understanding of one another that it seems like much longer.

She had a particularly high tolerance for me, a notable quality since I was such a prick in the eyes of so many. I could joke with her and she would joke right back, matching my every witty comment with one of her own.

But it was more than just friends because she showed jealousy where a friend would know none. Her competitive style led her to strive to be the best woman in my life. And I did favor her, over my mother and over my girlfriend, I favored her.

We would have made fantastic lovers.

Well, not lovers anyway. Or maybe we were. Maybe a little part of her was in love with a little part of me. I didn't know, though, if that little part of me was just as in love with that little part of her. Although, I don't suppose it was unrequited love. Maybe I loved her more.

And among all the confusion of the supernatural pretenses that magic offered, she was natural. No matter how abnormal her feline green eyes, slightly pointed cuspids, glossy fur-soft hair, and inexplicable talent at magic were, everything from the full curve of her lips to the perfect posture in which she swaggered through the hallways seemed like it was made to be worn on her person. She was more comfortable in her skin than a black jaguar prowling the shadows as it stalked its next prey.

Whatever she was, she was brilliant.


	25. Revelation

Sorry it took so long to post a new chapter, finals are well on their way and I have little time for story writing I'm afraid.. The plot thickens, and then it twists. From here on out I'll start to tie Eup loose ends and bring this story to a close. Hope you like it even though it's short!

* * *

I asked him to meet me again tonight, only this time he arrived before me.

His pale skin caught my eyes with an ethereal glow as his platinum hair shone silver. Simply his presence was compelling enough to make me want to give myself to him, to reveal every secret and innermost thought, every dark image that lurked in the back of my mind.

There was something about Draco Malfoy that pulled me in, like a moth to a sparkling strand on a spider's web.

"I have taken certain precautions this evening to ensure the safety of all parties," I began, speaking barely above a whisper.

* * *

Her voice was angelic; it reminded me of morning dew drops on a cherry blossom just as the sun begins to rise.

I turned to see, not only her but, Viktor Krum standing at her side. He acknowledged me with a small nod that I mimicked just as Flay spoke again.

"I want to share something with you both, an idea that will have to be kept secret in order to spare all our lives," her eyes held a certain wariness that was uncharacteristic of my darling little confident Flay. I was now listening carefully.

"All of us here tonight have at least one thing in common: we desire power. But one more iimportant thing we share is the ability to overcome anything in order to obtain that power," her eyes flickered from me to Krum and back to me.

I already knew what she was thinking.

* * *

I saw him from the corner of my eye, smirking as if he already knew what she was about to say. In a distant corner of my mind, I had figured it out as well. However, I did not interrupt her as she spoke, choosing her words carefully with much focus and concentration.

"Tonight I ask you to take my hand, and each other's, as we make the unbreakable vow," her breath caught in her throat but she continued after a moment's pause, "To be loyal to only each other as we do everything in our power to destroy Voldemort and rise to his authority, becoming the most feared wizards to walk the face of the Earth, while never muttered a word of this vow to anyone who is not a part of it."

When she sent me the owl to come to Hogwarts tonight, I knew she wanted to meet with Draco as well. I had suspected she wanted to discuss the pending issue of the Dark Lord's request for a child, but this change had not caught me off guard. I wanted to do this. I wanted to be a part of this. And when this was all over, I was going to be phenomenal.

* * *

I stepped closer towards Draco and extended my right hand. He took it with his right and looked me straight in the eyes, those mesmerizingly clear blue eyes, as Viktor pulled out his wand and touched our hands with the tip. He stated the three terms of the agreement and asked if we vowed to follow them.

"I will," Draco and I said simultaneously.

"Then so it shall be," he finished. A white hot flame left the tip of his wand and wound itself around our forearms before disappearing and leaving a faint line behind.

The ritual was repeated with Viktor and I and once more with Viktor and Draco.

We were now bound forever or willed to die. It was the only way.


	26. Wounded

It was after dinner when I heard someone calling my name from down the hallway. "Harry!" she caught up with me in hall and I stopped to see what the matter was. "Harry," she said somewhat winded, "There's been a terrible accident," she panted lightly, "In the Forbidden Forest. Come quick!" She grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the edge of the school grounds. I followed her quickly and we were at the border of the forest within seconds.

I jerked back as she continued just past the first few trees, "Where are we going?" I asked, hesitant to enter the forest, but her face showed so much concern and hurry that I just started running again.

"Draco!" she called out as she ran, gracefully dodging every twig and upturned root. "Draco! I'm coming!" she kept saying. She slowed down as she reached a small clearing at a lake and I recognized it as the same lake where I saved my godfather's life with a _patronus_.

"Stop!" I shouted as she began to wander off to the far side where Malfoy lay. I could see his pale figure writhing in what I could only assume to be pain. "You don't know what might have followed his scent while you were gone," I said as I noticed the puddle of blood that leaked in a small rivulet into the lake.

"Please Harry! I can protect us but I'm no good at healing magic. You have to do something," she beckoned me, impatiently pulling out her wand and taking a defense stance behind Malfoy.

He was howling in pain, "Help me!" I rushed to his side and pulled back his blood soaked robe. "_Stupefy_!"

* * *

I laughed as I rung out my robe. I couldn't believe he just fell for that, following a Slytherin out into the Forbidden Forest and actually going to try to help me? It had been a simple charm to make the water from the lake run up to my body and an illusion was what made it red. His stunned form watched as I stood with ease and brushed the dirt off myself.

Then he watched as Flay slowly began to morph back into the tall, muscular figure of Viktor Krum. Luckily, I was getting better at transfiguration. "Feeling foolish yet, Potter?" I smirked as I pulled my hood over my pale blonde hair to hide better in the night. "How do you want to do this?" I asked Viktor.

He hadn't said a word but he looked relatively smug from where he was standing, "_Wingardium_ _leviosa_," he muttered. I was going to say het his feet and I'll get his arms, but that works too.

I had to be careful in telling Flay about what we did tonight. I hadn't informed her at all about our plan seeing as Viktor had owled me moments before arriving. The worst part about the whole thing was waiting in the forest alone. Merlin knows, I've seen the beasts that lurk in these dark corners. We walked at a swift pace to avoid anything that might be in the near area.

In the end, what we needed was a place to put Potter. I hadn't much spoken to Viktor alone since fourth year at the Triwizard Tournament where we exchanged a few words but now I realized he wasn't much of a talker, or maybe just not to me. Either way, we took Potter to the Shrieking Shack and left him stunned there for the time being. Viktor had to be back at Durmstrang soon so I would return shortly to take him elsewhere.


	27. Don't Forgive Me

Another chapter.. Thanks for all the support! You guys as my reviewers have been great; I've never had such good stats on a story before :] This being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter, I know my most recent posts haven't been very lengthy but they have been more frequent so please forgive me. I thought this gave the story an interesting turn. I know what you're thinking, "Wow, something's finally happening and it's not just character introspect or snipets of scenes in random POVs." May I present you with my most recent chapter in the files to date, _Don't Forgive Me_.

* * *

The door creaked open and a light flicked on from the inside. I saw Flay Lestrange, who I expected to be the real Flay Lestrange, and Draco Malfoy enter quietly. Malfoy lingered back, lurking in the shadows against the wall as that black-haired girl walked towards me.

"Harry Potter," she giggled, "The famous Chosen One, all tied up and a prisoner in my dungeon." I wondered how I had gotten from the Shrieking Shack to the dungeon. Most of the memories since the _stupefy_ spell had become slightly fuzzy. She returned to Malfoy and laid a soft kiss on his cheek, "This is so exciting." She didn't bother trying to keep the grin off her face as she walked back towards me. Finally, when she was inches away from my face, she reached up to sweep my bangs back. "Such meaningful eyes," she doted sweetly, caressing my cheek with the back of her hand. She pulled the gag down around my neck, "How are you?" she asked. Under different circumstances it would have been a caring voice, angelic and nurturing.

"You're crazy. You'll never succeed in whatever you're planning," I began softly so only she could hear, not that Malfoy was showing much interest.

"Did you hear that, Draco?" she looked back at him with wild eyes, pure savagery shone clearly in them, "He thinks we'll never make it!" Her giggle turned into a laugh which became the identical cackle that came out of Bellatrix's mouth as she killed Sirius.

"You don't have to be like your mother," I took shallow breaths, air quickly passing over my lips and making them chapped.

"I can only aspire to be more like her," she dawdled idly. Bored with the conversation, she licked my cheek with her pink tongue. Suddenly my head was snapped to the side. Parts of my vision were black and there was blood in my mouth. She had slapped me!

"You're better than that," I said as blood dripped down my chin.

"Draco," she beckoned him from where he was leaning against the wall. He looked at her from the shadows, "Did you want him or can I wash the walls with his blood?" Her hand twitched and I saw her fingers lengthen. Claws grew from under her skin, painfully ripping their way through as the bones restructured themselves.

"Listen here, poppet," he said with the slightest tone of aggression, "I said not yet. He doesn't die until I kill him." A low growl came from deep inside her chest as he continued, "And I better not hear of any 'accidents'," he added sharply.

She whipped her head around and I saw her eyes, violent green and full of rage. At that moment I had a feeling Malfoy had saved me from a brutal death. She took a few ragged breaths before calming down. I saw Malfoy watching her intently but not interfering more than necessary. Finally her breaths grew shallow and controlled. Her eyes were a shade duller, more human, and her dainty hands were back to normal. "You'll never know how powerful the urge just was to end your life, to destroy you," she whispered. Her words were very precise and made them sound all the more calculated and dangerous. "I'd get so much pleasure out of killing you, Potter. The thing about you is that you've never experienced death that wasn't from a magical cause. Everyone you know who's died has been done off by magic. Wouldn't it be fabulous if I killed you with my bare hands? Let you see what a real death is like?"

"Someone will stop you," I said in a last attempt to make them see differently, "You can't kill everyone. Eventually, someone will stop you."

Malfoy stepped forward, a cruel smirk pulling at his strong face, "The point is, Potter, that in a little while from now you will be the Boy Who Died."

"And who will you be, Malfoy? The Boy Who Murdered?" I had to keep trying. As much of a prick as Malfoy could be and most certainly was, he had a lot of misfortunes in his life. "I know what desperation feels like. You don't have to do this. You can still change," I saw it strike a chord inside him. He had thought a lot about everything that was happening. "There're tough decisions to make. Sometimes you feel like you know what's right and wrong but the more you get involved the more you come to realize you don't and that sometimes the wrong choice isn't good but the right one isn't either," his pale grey eyes pierced into me, reading beyond my words, or so I hoped. "You think she knows what she's doing? She's how you got into this mess! She's a raving lunatic, Malfoy, just like her mother."

"_Crucio_!" I heard her scream at the top of her lungs and her voice held all the anger and hatred that she didn't let show. It penetrated her curse and made me feel the pain she felt, the hurt and the sorrow and the burning anger that fueled everything.

It stopped only because Malfoy forcefully lowered her wand, "Her hate poisons her," I could barely speak above a whisper, "Just like it poisons you."

"Don't speak of things you don't understand, Potter," he spat viciously at me. I could see the same hate in his eyes as he glared at me, carefully holding Lestrange close to his body. My vision began to blur and I could only faintly make out his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of her wrist.

"If you ever dare to speak ill of my family again, Potter, I'll," but I didn't get to her threat because darkness enveloped me like a cold blanket of air and I surrendered.


	28. Transfuse

Dear Jennedy, thanks for the help. This is for you :]

* * *

"Don't get me wrong, Draco darling," she pouted, precariously leaning over the edge of the astronomy tower, "I'm simply thrilled about the Potter boy but you should have told me. Realistically we can only keep him for a day at most without someone noticing his absence. And then you know how that will end up, the whole school will be searching for him. Merlin knows, we won't be able to hide him for long once that happens."

"Viktor and I were thinking that you should go to Voldemort with Potter, seeing as how you're the favorite and all," he scoffed with mild disgust and a hint of jealousy, "while he and I stay at Hogwarts and annihilate the rest of these poor bastards."

"As appealing as that is, I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to handle Voldemort," Draco cast a sideways glance as if she were losing her mind, "Not now anyway," she corrected herself grimly. "You see, I haven't fed in months. I'm quite weak."

"Then disappear in the Forbidden Forest for a few hours and gorge yourself," he urged critically.

"Regardless, it would still take me the whole night to be back at my full strength. By then, the secret will be out and we will be as good as dead," she reminded him with a slightly edgy tone to her voice.

"So what you're saying is that I should go in your place? Because Viktor hasn't had direct contact with the Lord in far too long to be coincidence," he pondered carefully. "You're barking mad, Flay," he mumbled under his breath as he moved to stand next to her against the railing.

"Let me put it this way, Dracky-poo," she growled as she mimicked his girlfriend's tone to annoy him, "If I should fail that means you don't even stand a chance. Maybe you should take more care in considering other options with a higher success rate before you throw me to the wolves."

Draco cringed at the emasculate name, breaking eye contact and glancing down at her bare arms just above where her fingers were laced together. The faint burn marks encircled her wrists and crawled over her unnoticeable veins and up her arms. "We can still do it," he said as he grabbed her right arms and looked straight into her vivid green eyes. "Come on, I have a plan," he began explaining it to her as they raced down the stairs of the astronomy tower, off school grounds, and into Hogsmeade. They disapparated and found themselves in Siberia just off the grounds of Durmstrang. "_Accio_ broomstick," he muttered with urgency as the snow began to nip at their unprotected arms and face.

Flay stopped him as he was about to mount it in front of her, "Get behind me. I know where I'm going." Without argument, they were in the air and flying low until they reached the school. She immediately found an open window and flew through it, locating the main corridor and flying down the stairs to the dungeons. The dismounted the broom and she knocked heavily on one of the many nondescript doors that lined the hall.

"Flay? Draco?" Viktor mumbled sleepily as he glanced down both sides of the hallway before ushering them in and closing the door behind them. "What is the matter?" he asked, forgetting his accent in his rush to understand the problem.

"I need you to do a blood transfusion," Flay said, quickly cutting to the chase.

"But you look fine. Have you lost very much blood?" he asked curiously.

"No, I need more of it. Draco told me everything about what happened with Potter," she saw his worried expression, "That's not the problem, don't worry. But now we have to act quickly before someone notices he's missing and sics a mob of witches and wizards to search for him. The Ministry cannot find out and that is the first thing that would happen, knowing Dumbledore."

"Agreed, but I still do not understand. A blood transfusion, it can be very dangerous," he reminded them.

"We know, Krum," Draco said anxiously, beginning to lose his patience, "The problem is that Flay's not strong enough to fight Voldemort."

"Of course she is," he smiled, "I have faith."

"No, you dumbass," he began yelling but Flay put her hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"I haven't been feeding," she explained. A look of understanding finally washed over Viktor's face.

"You should have said so from the beginning. Wait here," the new Defense Against the Dark Arts master beckoned them, "I know where there are the proper tools you require." Minutes later he returned with several things in a regular small brown box. "Here," he said, "handing her one of three plastic bags full of blood.

"Is that human?" she asked hesitantly. Draco cringed at the affirmative answer but she eagerly grabbed the bag and pierced the corner with her feline fangs, sucking on it like a child with a lollipop.

"That's vile," Draco commented off to the side.

"Tie this tightly around her arm," Viktor handed him a tourniquet and Draco did as he was told.

"Ouch! Too tight," she grimaced and he loosened it slightly. Meanwhile, Viktor had poured a small plastic bag full of crushed mandrake root with a half full vial of blue liquid, turning it an eerily clear. He attached a rubber hose to a second bag of blood and attached the hypodermic needle to the syringe.

"This is going to pinch," he apologized in advance as he pierced the bulging vein in the crook of her arm and released the tourniquet. She grunted with the bag still in her mouth, sucking harder as the blood began to move through the tube and into her body, directly into her bloodstream. "Here, drink this," he handed her the vial and she took it but didn't drink it until she had finished the whole bag.

"Are you sure you're not a vampire, Flay?" Draco asked nonchalantly as she reached for a second bag but Viktor pulled it out of her reach.

"Behave. You need this in your blood, not your stomach. When was the last time you ate?" he said, glancing at the clock that hung in his room.

"Lunch, around two," she answered briefly, knowing she should have eaten before the transfusion. Unfortunately, she hadn't known in advance. The bag was now drained as he hooked up the last one. "Let me get that," she snatched the bag away and sucked at the last few mouthfuls that had gravity hadn't been able to push out.


	29. Among the Cutthroats

Hey guys, I know it's been a while, sorry. My life's been kind of scattered lately. Anyway, here's the next chapter, _Among the Cutthroats_. More thoughts at the bottom...

* * *

"My Lord," she announced herself, taking in the familiar surroundings of the cozy living room heated by the quaint fireplace with its usual green flames. He sat facing away from her in that large black leather chair with its imposingly tall back and cushioned round arm rests that had the buttons sewn onto the ends. "I have brought you Harry Potter," she said, patiently waiting to be acknowledged. Harry stood behind her, weak from an empty stomach and the abuse he had received earlier that night.

_The blonde's fist whipped around to catch the black-haired boy square in the jaw. The impact sent him flying to the ground in a mangled heap of torn clothes and broken spirits. He hit him again, this time in the other cheek, with enough force to roll him several feet away. Blood pooled by the mouthful and had nowhere to go but to trickle slowly out the corner of his lips, splattering on the floor as the boy coughed and choked trying to breath._

She'd have used a polyjuice potion with a substitute person if she had not been so sure that Voldemort would notice immediately. This way she ran the chance of Harry Potter's accidental death, where Draco would be less than pleased, but if Voldemort suspected an imposter it' be both their lives and an experience Flay was not sure she wanted to live through.

"Still no heir?" he growled ominously. Harry glanced at her with surprise but her hardened face showed no emotion as her secret was revealed. Instead, he felt the magical hand with which she held him immobile tighten its grasp around him.

"No, My Lord," she responded without hesitation, "There has been little time for such activities. As you can see," she nudged Harry forward enough so his shadow was separate from her own on the old Oriental rug, "I have been arranging for other occasions."

"As usual, you have done well," he stood from his chair before the fireplace and beckoned her closer, a meek smile upon his face. Harry was bewildered; the Dark Lord looked so much like himself back when he was still a Hogwarts student. His olive green eyes sparkled with mischief and the corners of his mouth curled up ever so slightly to reveal an undertone of ulterior motives. "Harry," he said, finally addressing his number one adversary, "You look so tense." Flay's angelic voice bubbled up in laughter, her eyes reflecting the truth behind the Chosen One's appearance.

_The boy's long leg jerked out from under him, his black boot landing solidly in the other boy's stomach. He fell to the ground on his knees, screaming as the internal bleeding began to painfully swell the surrounding organs._

Nagini lifted her heavy head from the coiled pile she lay in by the heated corner of the fireplace. Her tongue flickered in and out, tasting the air as she slithered towards Flay and wrapped herself around the girl like tailored fur coat. "She seems to enjoy your presence," Voldemort noted. The notion that the piece of his soul that lay protected and hidden within the divine serpent was not lost on either of them.

"What do you intend to do with the boy, My Lord?" she asked inquisitively but politely. As long as she showed respect the Dark Lord would grant her wishes. He knew her questions were anything but innocent but he did not mind, that was how he wanted her to be. She was forward with her desire and achieved what she set out to accomplish.

All she needed was an opportunity. She would not hesitate, would not stop to ponder the repercussions should she fail. She would not fail. It was not an option. A cold calm enveloped her as she moved into her predator's mentality. Her pupils narrowed to slits. Her teeth lengthened in her mouth. Her nails sharpened to claws.

Harry watched as she turned into a monster more brutal than what he had witnessed only a few hours ago. Voldemort made the mistake of thinking that the boy's fear was due to his impressive nature, "Watch, Flay, as the fearless and bravest heart of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, quivers at my mere gaze. Fear has trapped his fluttering heart; it cannot fly away and save itself this time."

When Voldemort saw his apprentice's reflection in his victim's eyes, he knew it was already too late. Her thick claws ripped ferociously through the thin skin just above his life veins. Blood flowed unsanctified over his chest, dripping onto Harry as he stood in front of the man who had murdered his mother and father. A chord of revenge was struck in the young boy's heart as he watched the life pour out of the handsome man's delicate green eyes until they were empty and soulless.

"_That's_ murder," she said pointedly as her pupils rounded and her claws shrank back to delicate fingers and glossy pink nails, "Not that green laser show you're so used to." Her fang pricked her bottom lip as she spoke around the shrinking teeth. She licked it quickly before it could drip and make a mess.

* * *

...Ok, so: I know Voldemort's death is kind of lame and fast considering he's this almighty dark lord blah blah blah. _But wait_, there's more! JK, that's all there really is to it. I mean, I guess i was sort of working off the theory that his death was of natural causes (ei, not magic) so he couldn't have known it was coming in a certain sense. One of the main fears of the Dark Lord arises because he can read peoples mind and so forth, but he can't read the minds of animals and Flay is clearly in another world of her own beast when everything goes down. That's my reconciliation for that, now moving on. There will be more, the Dark Lord's not dead yet, after all, Nagini is still around....


	30. Irreverence

If you've been following the story thus far [and you actually read my ramblings] please note that I'd love to hear your input on this chapter. Means a lot guys, thanks.

PS: School has begun and I'm totally overloaded. Fortunately, nothing can keep my mind off this story, not even multivariable calculus and differential equations. Maybe that's a bad thing.. I'll let you know as soon as the semester's over =3

* * *

She sauntered into the room in a tiny black dress with her hands on her hips swaying gently from side to side, her legs lusciously long in black tights and tall black pumps. Her hair was perfectly sleek and glossy in the torchlight and her lips were dark like fine red wine. She gazed at him through brilliant emerald jewels etched in black coal.

An obscure figure moved silently in the shadows against the wall, "Your extravagant nature has always eluded all reason, Lestrange." Draco's voice was clearer than the coming day as he moved slowly to escape the darkness that cloaked him. He wore a tailored black suit, simple and elegant. They were going to make an event out of this. "Need I remind you that we are here to murder hundreds of people? Should the complication arise, can you even duel in those shoes?" he asked dully. Her heels clicked closer and closer to him on the cold stone floor beneath them, "Why are you dressed so pretentiously?"

She paused in front of him and thought carefully for a moment, "I like to think of it as more of a," she paused to choose the right word, "Festivity." Her lips parted into a wide smile, pearly teeth sparkling even brighter against her dark lips, "I'm celebrating."

"It's bad luck to celebrate a death," he cautioned under his breath as she drew nearer.

Inches away from him, she leaned in, barely touching his chest with her fingertips, and inhaled the sweet musk at the base of his neck, "Well then," she paused with a smirk at having caught him in his own form of celebration, "We are in quite the conundrum."

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't wary of her, especially after hearing she had successfully destroyed the Dark Lord. There she stood, that elegant and intelligent creature, but all the grace and beauty in the world couldn't hide the essence of danger it so attempted to mask. "I know you've been scheming something in that ever-active mind of yours, Flay," he jilted her forward attempts and made his way towards the door, "Let's hear it."

She sighed half-heartedly and followed him, heels clicking smartly behind her. It was almost four in the morning. The sun would be coming up soon. "I'd much rather hear your plan first," she didn't even have time to smile sweetly because he turned on his heel, almost smacking right into her.

"I don't much care to share it," he growled impatiently, inches from her face. She could smell a hint of herbs, maybe a cup of warm tea to soothe his nerves and help him stay awake until she had taken care of her situation with the late Lord Voldemort.

She didn't care what hang ups he was having about it. As he turned to keep walking she grabbed his lapel and jerked him to a stop, pulling him back around to face her with an inhuman force that was invisible on her naked body. "You listen here, Draco," she hissed sharply with an unhidden tone of freshly sparked anger, "You sent me out to risk my life like yours didn't depend on it. Merlin's beard, if you don't address me with respect I'll show you what could have happened to you tonight." She gave him one long, hard stare, peering deep into his stoic grey eyes. She remembered a time not so long ago when they looked like diamonds set in that translucent skin he wore so well. They changed though, into what could have been stars ground up so fine they resembled tiny sparkling bits of a broken mirror that reflected hopes for better days. Now they were even more different, grey and flat like ancient stone, aged far beyond his years.

"Walk with me, pet," he said with a slight bow, extending his forearm for her to take. She let the surprise show on her face as she lightly rested her hand in the crook of his elbow. His icy blues made contact with hers, looking up at her from beneath heavily lidded eyes full of hidden intent, but it was a passion that burned within him, a passion to please. "Once upon a time," he began as he stood straight and eased the wrinkles out of his jacket collar, "The gesture would have brought a smile to your pretty face." Now, standing taller than her, he tipped her chin up with one finger so he could see into her sorrowful green eyes. They gazed back up at him with mystery and wonder but, behind it, an air of grieving doubt. Uncertainty as to what point he was trying to reach but precaution as to not test waters so soon.

"Draco," she let slip almost silently. Her lips came together in a pout at the end, a pout that he quickly acknowledged with a kiss to silence any further reservation she might have been concealing from him. He pulled away with the slightest smudge of lipstick staining his troubled mouth, not sure what to do, not sure what to say.


	31. Breaking Barriers

Glad you guys are still following along, you're real troopers! Sorry this took me like... 3 weeks to get out, but it's pretty much the prelude to everything about to go down. I hate to say this but the next chapter is probably going to take even longer to come out :( It's going to pretty long from what I can imagine. I'm open to suggestions!!

* * *

Flay cast her wand high to the sky with a shrill scream of delight, black flames erupting from the tip as a smoky snake slithered between the fangs and out through the mouth of a hazy skull.

Draco was inside causing small distractions to get the professors' attention. They immediately saw the Dark Mark Flay had conjured floated above Hogwarts in the clouds of the twilight sky. Blood red soaked through its shadowy figure as the students gathered at the windows of the Great Hall and watched with despair.

"Silence!" said the headmaster as he entered the room last and sealed the doors shut behind him. "For all whom have been able to gather here today," he cast an unnoticeable glance at Hermione and Ron, anxiously looking around for their lost friend, "Please remain calm. We have all been preparing for this moment, knowing a time would come when Lord Voldemort would rise again."

"Oh, how wrong you are," said a female voice from the corner behind him. She seemed to have simply come together out of the air and appeared as a figment. "Voldemort is dead," she paused and smirked, "well, as good as dead for the time being but I'll take care of that later when it's more pressing." She walked out onto the stage where Dumbledore was standing before his podium. "_Expeliarmus_," she said so quickly it caught everyone in the room by surprise. But Flay suspected the old Headmaster would not have attempted to stop her anyway.

"So, Flay Lestrange," the students and professors fell to a deadly silence, "How is Bellatrix in these days after her escape?" he asked knowingly.

Flay smiled, having been convinced that the intelligence of her bloodline had been leaked at an earlier date, "Mother is quite fine. Very proud these days, I might add. How many mothers are there that can say their daughter successfully destroyed Lord Voldemort?"

McGonagall paled as Snape raised his wand but Dumbledore motioned for him to lower it. "You don't say? And Karkaroff? I don't suppose you know of him and Mr. Krum, do you? It's been quite a while since we last spoke," he was trying to keep the conversation going. Flay couldn't imagine what for, other than attempting to think of a plan of escape. She kept her wand down and made a sharp snap with her free hand. Draco appeared from the darkness of the room just as Flay had. "Ah, Draco Malfoy, I was wondering where you were. Can't miss hair like that even in a family as big as ours, except for maybe Ms. Lovegood's." The blonde girl blushed as the headmaster pointed her out in such trying times as these.

"Yes, well, I had other business to attend to," he admitted carefully, keeping one eye on Albus and the other on McGonagall and Severus.

"You mean like setting off homemade bombs in the halls by windows?" Dumbledore asked curiously. The look on Draco's expression made his eyes sparkle. He could still one up the young boy even after all these years.

"Let's not take forever gentlemen," Flay interrupted, "Shall we?" she asked after noticing what had taken place. She raised her wand and created an unbreakable force field around the students and some of the professors. It barely failed to extend all the way to Snape and McGonagall managed to step out of the way quickly.

"_Expeliarmus_!" McGonagall shouted at the platinum haired boy who managed to dodge the spell by the thinnest hair atop his head.

"_Sectum Sempra_," came the mumbled voice of Snape immediately following McGonagall's spell. His was directed at Flay but, instead of dodging it, she blocked it. With a mindless wave of her wand, the curse dissipated before it could reach her.

"Don't anger me, Severus," she growled warningly, green eyes glaring daggers at his beady black ones. "Don't remind me of how you tried to convince me you were on my side, like I didn't suspect you of being a double agent. Don't remind me that you failed to take my life and called it a training accident. Don't remind me you are alive, or I will remember to kill you." Her threat was as cold-blooded as the tiny platinum snake pendent she wore around her neck. It hung loosely on a thin black thread shown proudly on her chest. It was the necklace Draco had given her before Halloween. She had yet to take it off and the black cord had worn to dark grey.


	32. The End

I know it's called _The End_ but at the moment I'm just in a severe writer's block induced by all the stresses of life weighing down on me. I exaggerate, but I have three exams next week and I'm a mess lately.. So here's the deal. Instead of putting _The Strange_ on hiatus, which I utterly despise doing, I'm going to finish it (at current: 32 ch, 32 alerts, 36 faves, 49 revs, and more than 11k hits). Now before you all start flaming (and I'm sure I'll be hearing from Jennedy on this one..) I've decided to make this the last chapter of _The Strange_ BUT I'm seriously considering making a sequel. I don't have a plot planned out yet so I'm open to suggestions at this point, but please include a couple words in your review letting me know you'd be interested in reading the next installment.

Again, I'd like to thank all my readers, both the silent and the reviewers, for being so supportive. Come to think of it, I might call part two _The Silent_. Or is that too melancholic?

* * *

It was over before it began.

We met and my life took a different turn from that day on. There was a fight along every step of the way, but there was sunlight behind every cloud.

She was the one my heart beat for, the one I knew was a true kindred in soul; she was the one I had been waiting for whom I never expected to meet. But it had happened, so forced in nature that it seemed unreal. A psychological trauma, perhaps?

Flay, a natural disaster that ravaged my body without so much as a, 'Hello.' My life wouldn't have been complete without somehow, somewhere along the way, having come to know her.

But did I know her? No one really knew Flay, there were too many Flay's to know. She was different to every person, frightening in a unique way to every student as she cast curse upon curse at them that morning in the Great Hall. It had been death in a very good disguise.

But there was no hiding the bloodlust in her curled lip, the beast in her feline eyes, or the passion in her angelic voice as it sentenced a small population to whatever unseemly fate awaited them at her whim.

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a beautiful woman who could do anything she set her mind to. With the world at her fingertips, she chose the wrong path. And when she was good, she was excellent, but when she was bad, she was horrid.

And in that kingdom, so far, far away, there courted her an ambitious gentleman who shared the same fate as the beautiful woman. How he longed for her heart, but she would never see past the veil of lies that blurred her vision, never enough to see the truth that rang through the very strings of his being.

Not until her lover was thrust into the midst of her plan and forced to finish what she had started did it ever occur to the beautiful woman the true reasons behind his actions, denying them and believing in a higher cause.

She died that day, in the arms of her gentleman, shedding the tears of unrequited love that did not belong to her. A tragedy that struck so deep it led her lover to a slow, agonizing demise, an end unfit for such innocent attraction.

And though it was the gentleman who bore a hole in the life of his beautiful woman, he tore an equally large hole in his heart, to fill the one he had first created, with love.


End file.
